Itaewon tragedy

As someone who has spent a fair amount of time in Itaewon, it felt particularly surreal to learn that more than 150 people have just been crushed to death there. Passing a cinema in Mogliano last night called “Busan”, I was struck by how quickly the calmest of places can turn into something completely different.

Canals

Getting into Venezia Santa Lucia just as the sun was rising, we got to have Venice all for ourselves, giving the kids their promised gondola ride and Italian ice creams long before all the (other) tourists arrived. 

Around noon, the city was completely packed, prompting us to escape with the regional train up to the village of Mogliano where we are staying at a slightly brutalist Doubletree hotel. With accommodation prices in the centro storico of Venice having gone through the roof, staying a bit away from the fray seemed like the reasonable choice even if I regret not having rented a car. Tomorrow we will take the Frecciarossa south to Rome where we have booked an apartment next to the Vatican City for two nights before continuing further down to Sorrento.

Ryanair

Thirteen years ago, a Ryanair flight took me from the riads of Marrakech to the apple orchards of East Anglia despite my best intentions. Like now, I guess my only excuse is that the airline gave me an offer that I could not refuse. Checking in at Arlanda tonight, I got to witness first-hand the insane amounts of “ancillary revenue” that Ryanair is able to collect as almost every other passenger had to pay for checking bags or having boarding passes printed. 

Having booked ten months in advanced, our tickets on the other hand were obscenely cheap at about 400 SEK per person roundtrip. Considering that Lufthansa would have been about six times that, I guess it just shows that, at the end of the day, everyone has a price. Though Ryanair has clearly done a lot of good in terms of European integration, their hostility to labour unions and shady airport marketing contracts are two of the reasons that I dislike them, not to mention that in case of any IROPs, you are definitely on your own. Yet, despite their dreadful contracts, the cabin crew seemed so much happier than your regular SAS crew, and the Latvian flight attendant and I had a good laugh when her Maltese colleague asked me if I wanted a glass for my white wine.

If you believe in me, I’ll believe in you

Taking the night train from Umeå shortly before 8 pm last night, we were treated to one of Swedish Railway’s renovated BC4 couchette cars. Having booked a compartment to ourselves, it felt like the deluxe version of my Interrail years. Once in Stockholm, we spent a couple of hours in the morning walking around the harbour before the stores opened so I could go shoe shopping with William who had outgrown his old sneakers. At XXL, we invested in a pair of Saucony Kinvara which is the same yellow shoes that I have come to love for my treadmill runs at USM.

Then, around lunch time, we met up with my sister and her boyfriend for a visit to the Royal Armory where I got to practice unicorn jumping and being reminded of that line from Alice in Wonderland. Just like the Medieval Museum where we went afterwards, it is fantastic to be able to visit these great museums for free.

Returning Starlet

After a month of faithful service, it is time to return our Toyota Starlet to the rental company. Before handing it back, I decided to vacuum it and give it a wash as the poor car was clearly in need of some TLC.

Altitud

Sipping some “Altitud” whiskey from the High Coast, I can look back on an intensive Wednesday filled with meetings and a most classic River Run with Elin. Though only three days after my marathon, I felt ready to run some faster paces, reminding me of when Elin and I were watching the Kipchoge film in Klaipėda on the night before our TKN ultra. 

With a stubborn cold stopping me from running Umeå Maraton three weeks ago, I do not know when I will get a shot at the marathon distance again but, as much as I love trails, I have definitely not given up on road running.

Not a microchip

For some reason, the first thing I did when waking up today was reading an article in Joule published by some researchers at Oxford University. Described in different fora as a highly authoritative “Oxford study” it turned out to be one of many that have used advanced probabilistic forecasts to arrive at the same improbable conclusions.

In short, the problem with the study is that it fails to understand that neither a wind turbine nor a solar panel is a microchip. While computers may have followed Moore’s law (which says that the number of transistors on silicon doubles about every two years) in the past, no efficiency improvement of weather-dependent renewables can ever make the sun shine at night or the wind blow when it is calm. As such, physical reality dictates that the costs of renewable energy systems will not fall exponentially in the same way that the costs of computer power has done. In fact, there is every reason to expect the exact opposite as the best sites for renewable energy production have already been used up, overall grid volatility increases, and existing infrastructure starts to age.

For all their ideologically motivated reasoning, a “rapid transition to renewables” will not generate trillions in net savings but rather drive inflation, irreversibly destroy habitats, and leave humanity as a whole less equipped to deal with the risks of the 21st century.

WhatsApp

This morning, I was finally able to catch up on the swimming so now I am back on pace with my goal of swimming 36,000 meters this year. Afterwards, WhatsApp suddenly stop working worldwide, leaving me with more time to prepare the afternoon meeting with the faculty hiring committee and perhaps helping the Tory party regain some unity after choosing Rishi Sunak as their new leader and British prime minister...

Runday

Along the trusted tradition of “Sunday Runday”, I set off at 6 am with Petra on her first ever marathon, stopping at two different Circle-K gas stations for coffee and cinnamon buns before finishing with a visit to an old-time bakery in Umedalen for some freshly baked “tunnbröd” (the Swedish version of flatbread). Throughout, Petra impressed me with her high spirits and seemingly effortless running which was extra impressive considering that the farthest she had run prior to today was 30 kilometres.

Terroiriste

Back home in Sävar, I am making an Italian dinner and reminding myself of Roger Scruton’s words that “terroir” is the sense of place in a glass. As such, someone who emphasis this aspect of wine over dispassionate taste receptor signals, is per definition a “terroiriste”. For me, being deeply invested in a cosmopolitan worldview that focuses on what we share as humans rather than what divides us, talk about “place” always makes me wary. Yet, when it comes to wine, I must admit that it has always been precisely these imaginative qualities that have appealed to me, and that a glass of Italian wine has been as much a spiritual as a medical antidote to the winter darkness of the High North.

Tonight, I am drinking some #småparti Chianti as I am reading up on the resignation of Liz Truss and Russia’s threats to leave (sic!) the United Nations if the organization goes ahead and investigates Russia’s use of Iranian drones. More than ever, it is difficult to tell what the road ahead looks like, but I share Francis Fukuyama’s analysis that history is still, essentially, “over” and that reality, as in the war in Ukraine or Covid, has shown how incapable seemingly strong authoritarian states are of learning and how futile their attempts to control reality actually are.

River walk with Eddie

Johannisfors

After spending the whole day indoors discussing the future of the health care administration programme that I have been involed in as a teacher for the last half decade, I was dying for a run (as for dying and academia, see this). 

Joined by Eddie on his bike, I set out north along Sävarån towards Johannisfors, as suggested by my colleague Linn who grew up here in Sävar. And, oh my, what a scenic road, perfect for some sunset speed in my Hoka Rincon 3. Next time, I promise to take my phone along so I can take some pictures.

Slottsstek med brunsås

As a new government, with the support of the far-right Sweden Democrats, comes into power in Sweden, it felt like the right time for some civil resistance in the form of harissa rice with dates and oranges, reminding me of Morocco and the greater world that is still ours to rescue.

Salines de Es Trenc

Since I have been away for almost a week, it was understandably Anna’s turn to have some time on her own. Thus, all alone with the kids, I went for a longer morning run, making it back just before the heavens opened. I must say that I was quite impressed by the kids as they biked along for all 13 kilometres in high spirits.

Later in the afternoon, we went to the pool here in Sävar. Priced at 80 SEK for one adult and two kids, it is a really affordable weekend pastime. Both kids love swimming and hopefully the salty waters of the Mediterranean will still be warm enough for them once we get down to Sorrento in a couple of weeks’ time. As for those same waters, Sofi and I passed some impressive salt flats on our way to dreamy Platja d'es Trenc and, after our swim there, decided to pick up a jar with gourmet sea salt, perfect when oven-roasting the remaining polka beats.

Lectures and laser tag

Returning to Umeå after a week of absolute calm at the Med, I had almost forgotten how intense it can be sometimes. After spending seven hours in the classroom on Friday, I went into town with Eddie today to play some laser tag and pick up ingredients to make goat cheese pizza at home. Unfortunately, it turned into more cheese than pizza, but it was nevertheless tasty with lots of polka beats.

Right now, my parents are out travelling with train through Europe, with my dad calling me earlier today from the shores of lake Lugano. Had it not been for the fact that I have just been to Mallorca and that I will be in Venice with the family in two weeks from today, I would have been dead jealous.

Koster kelp

As all good things, this trip too had to end. Flying home aboard Skallagrim Viking, Sofi and I got to check out the pre-order SAS economy options, which in my case consisted of cured salmon with potatoes, radish and some Koster “sugar kelp”, all served with a glass of Landwein from the Rhine valley just as we encountered some light turbulence over the Alps. 

Tomorrow it is back to a full day of teaching in Umeå but before that I thought I should post a couple of more pictures from the island.

On the road with Sofi

After travelling to Madrid back in April, Sofi and I recognized that one can never get enough of Spain, so here we are on Mallorca. As always, we have had an incredible time with lots of strong coffee, unforgettable wines like “12 Volt”, and some not so cold swims. Though I have certainly missed my kids, and Sofi her dog “Krut” as evident from the picture above, it has been great travelling together and we cannot wait until we get the chance to do it again.

Driving around the island in a Fiat 500, we got to check out the narrowest of switchbacks and near-vertical slopes, and I feel like I have now graduated from the master’s class in southern European parking practices without burning through too much clutch. Among the many places we have parked, Valldemossa, immortalized by George Sand in A winter in Majorca, stands out, so if I ever come back, perhaps on a bike like Sabinha and the others in “Malt och motion”, I will make sure to stay there for longer than just a few photos.

Deià

At long last, I got to visit the small coastal village of Deià with its olive and orange groves. Having been on my radar ever since I picked up Gypset Travel, I had to smile when I saw Susan Sontag’s words, “I have not been everywhere, but it is on my list”. 

Staying in a budget hostel, in sharp contrast to last night at the Can Ferrereta in Santanyí, Sofi and I are coming to the end to our marvellous trip around Mallorca, finishing with some tapas as the sun was setting over the hills. Earlier, in Port Sóller, we were able to squeeze in one last swim in the Med which Sofi documented paparazzi-style.

3x Can Ferrereta

Port run

Staying true to my tradition of city runs, I started the morning with a 10k run along the waterfront of Palma. With many lights turned off to conserve electricity, it was not always easy to tell where I put my feet, but I safely made it back to the hotel in time for one of the best breakfasts in modern history.

Palma de Mallorca

Once on the ground in Palma, Sofi and I went for a walk through the narrow alleyways that were jam-packed with cruise ship tourists and climbed all the 215 stairs up to the roof terrace of the La Seu cathedral. In between, we of course had a caña or two with light lager and some Tortilla Española. Having stocked up on enough reprint postcards from the 1950s, we then returned to our 16th century olive oil factory turned hotel by Gert Wingårdh.

At the hotel, I learned that one of my former students had contacted our director of studies, complaining that my classes had not been “objective” and that I had said that the Sweden Democrats do not share the fundamental democratic values of the Swedish society. Though I think the student may have misunderstood a few details as I really tried my best to understand the roots of resentment, in particular the growing urban-rural tensions in Sweden, I am otherwise guilty as charged. In fact, I would be much more worried had I not been speaking out. Despite their large electoral gains, there is no reason whatsoever that we should normalize the existence of far-right views or not point out the obvious parallels to the 1930s in a class on political ideology. 

Moonlit

With the Baltic baking in moonlight, I made it down to Stockholm last night where I met up with Sofi. After all the working and moving, we are now off for a few days to the Balearic Islands. Despite my many trips to Spain over the years, this will actually be my first visit to Mallorca and, incredibly as it may sound, also to any of the ten locations featured in Gypset Travel, more on that later.

Flying down on a brand-new Airbus 320neo “Erika Viking”, we are currently enjoying our pre-ordered breakfast just as Sweden disappears below. With a flight time of three hours and twenty minutes, Mallorca somehow feels like a world away from all the dark clouds that are currently hanging over Europe, even if that is obviously not the case. Yet, judging from Strava and other social media, it seems as if these sunny spots have become incredibly popular in the wake of the pandemic and the war, as seemingly “safe” destinations relatively close to home. With Sofi’s birthday tomorrow, we will explore different parts of the island before flying back on Thursday. As always, I promise to take Rawls & Me along.

Autumn rush

As the leaves are turning red, my days are getting increasingly busy with so many parallel processes, including getting everything unpacked in Sävar. 

Now finding myself living in exurbia, I have also been forced to forego my green bike for a derelict Toyota Starlet from Rent-a-wreck. If only a temporary solution, the kids find it slightly embarrassing that, when we finally get a car, it is more of a glorified lawn mower than anything else.

Sävar

While Tvåälvsloppet took place up in Vindeln, I went back and forth to Sävar with a rental truck, moving all our stuff with the kind help of Elias. Passing the river, our new neighbourhood could not have been any more beautiful with a white church on the western bank and the wild stream below.

Once settled in, I made chili con carne to have some food containers for the week ahead. The new kitchen is much bigger with lots of storage space so I am really looking forward to cooking my way through the darker months that lie ahead.