“One does not travel by plane. One is merely sent, like a parcel.”
(Karen Blixen)
(Copenhagen, Denmark; June 2014)
The English
They drive on the wrong side. They drink their beer warm – and a small glass of wine is as much as a large glass in Finland. The tube never works in the weekends. The trains never work during rush hours. They charge ludicrous prices for tiny hotel rooms in London. They say “alight here” on the tube when they mean “leave the train”. They do not accept cards in the cab. They speak between the lines, persist in claiming class divides are eradicated, and serve awful food.
But they heat the milk served with tea – and the tea requires no fruit aroma to have a flavor. They make clotted cream rice pudding. They gave birth to Coldplay and Muse. And they created London. Bloomsbury, Mayfair, and Notting Hill. And the Twinings tea shop.
What am I still doing in Finland? Why oh why have I not moved back to England yet?
(London, United Kingdom; June 2014)
On the beach in Barceloneta
“Oh, you get to see so many places during your work travels!” they say, then sigh and smile. Yes, I reply, I get to see many air-conditioned hotels and airline lounges. But I rarely get to feel the spring breeze in Vienna, or the buzz of downtown Chicago, or the sun on my skin in Barcelona.
Sometimes I dive under the radar and stay a day or two longer. Other times the only way out is to slip past the chattering cocktail-sipping guests, through the door, down the steps, and out on the beach. No better deal than trading a mojito refill for the wind in my hair and the salty scent of the Mediterranean in May.
(Barcelona, Spain; May 2014)
Living today
i will wade out
till my thighs are steeped in burning flowers
I will take the sun in my mouth
and leap into the ripe air
Alive
with closed eyes
(e. e. cummings)
(image courtesy of yogabloga.tumblr.com)
The sky was candy luminous
the
sky
was
can dy lu
minous
edible
spry
pinks shy
lemons
greens cool choc
olate
s.un der,
a lo
co
mo
tive s pout
ing
vi
o
lets
(e. e. cummings)
(Copenhagen, Denmark; April 2014)
Today: stillness, hazelnut milk, and Shantaram
This story of a Westerner in tumultuous, dirty, enchanting Mumbai may be true, or it may be the invention of a grand ego. Regardless, the display of colors that are the good, the bad, and the ugly of humandkind is not far from the truth. And in Roberts’s own words, the truth is a bully we all pretend to like.
(Helsinki, Finland; May 2014)
Puddle-wonderful spring
“and it’s spring
when the world is puddle-wonderful”
(e.e. cummings)
Time-out in Sweden. Enjoying the sun.
(Sweden; April 2014)
Polka piglet candy
Polka piglets. I am not kidding. That is how the Swedish national candy, also known as peppermint rock, translates into English. Polka was fashionable when the poor widowed mother invented the candy in the 1840 and set up shop in Gränna, terraced above lake Vättern.
Out of all the ways to make ends meet for her and her children, she chose to take a leap into the unknown and become an entrepreneur. Out of all the things to sell, she chose pastries and her very own white, delicious mint candy with red swirls, which she named after a trendy dance. What a lovely, bright, courageous woman she must have been! And how proud she would feel if she knew her legacy has grown into a national symbol and a town making a living on polka piglet tourism.
Gränna with its polkagrisar, blue sky, lake Vättern, and quaint streets, was the perfect stop on our family trips down through Sweden into central Europe. We took a long time choosing one or two bright-colored bars. Oh the luxury of adulthood and own money! Today I failed to choose and ended up with quite a bunch…
(Gränna, Sweden; April 2014)
Another war, and how to forget it
Oh yes, yet another castle, in yet another city. How dreary it must have been to be a soldier stationed in this damp, cold fortress. There was probably little consolation in the gorgeous view overlooking Gothenburg city on one side and countryside on the other. The threat of attacking Spaniards, Poles, Danes, and crazy village people was real for centuries. Gothenburg used to be a burg: protected from all sides. I wonder whether the city walls would have given rise to a sense of security or a feeling of looming threat?
And on we move from lamenting on the bloody history of Gothenburg, Tallinn, and Vilnius; and into the luxury of cozy, chattery cafés in the old town. Heavy thoughts are easily dispersed by giant cinnamon buns and meringue clouds. The Danes won’t be attacking any time soon, so hot chocolate all around!
(Gothenburg, Sweden; April 2014)
It matters not what you look at, but what you see
Every day we walk in beauty. If we only remembered from time to time to look up and notice this crazy gorgeous blue marble. It is not what you look at that matters, it is what you see, said the naturalist Henry David Thoreau. I wonder how many passers by did notice the wonderful cherry trees in bloom by the botanical gardens in Gothenburg? Or the tulips planted one by one in long zig-zagging rows? Or the bird’s nest hanging on a branch right over the busy Kungsportsavenyn street?
Looking is ignorance in disguise. Seeing is mindfulness, concentration, and a non-stop learning experience.
(Gothenburg, Sweden; April 2014)
This blue marble 