Nieuw Statendam

I arrived at the breakwater, Parapeten, just as the majestic 300-metre Nieuw Statendam passed through Öresund. After a day that truly had everything, from Dirty Dancing to an icy swim in Hanöbukten, I knew I had to end it by catching the sunset at the place where my memories and dreams always seem to converge.

Now, waiting at Stattena for my rental EX30 to recharge so I can get back to Halmstad and Hallandsgatan, I am becoming increasingly uncertain about my upcoming ultra. With daytime temperatures above 30 degrees expected, and being deeply concerned about rhabdomyolysis, I remain undecided about whether it would be wise to start. In any case, I will only do so if I feel I have a reasonable chance of finishing. If the forecast holds, there is also a possibility that the event itself will be called off, regardless of what I decide. While it would, of course, be disappointing to have trained this much and not race, it is hardly worth risking kidney failure.

Fully charged

Six months after my EV adventures along the Autoestradas do Atlântico, I am back behind the wheel of an electric car, this time taking William to the Swedish Chess Championships in Jönköping, delivering lots of Lego to Halmstad, and driving Eddie to the airport for his eleven-day trip to Hungary.

Waiting for the car to charge, I completed this month's rowing challenge next to Road 40 in Borås. 192 kilometres later, I topped up while swimming in the waters of Kattegat.

Travelling with two kids, whose energies you constantly have to balance, can be pretty demanding. Driving with just one at a time, however, is simply bliss: time to listen to each other's Spotify favourites and have those unforced conversations that so rarely come about in days packed with obligations and reminders.

And now the conclusion

Far from the epic train drama of August 2023, I only ended up spending a couple of extra hours on Västgötaslätten before receiving the infamous text message – promising 3,000 SEK for alternative modes of transportation – that Swedish Railways sends out when everything else has failed. That allowed me to take a taxi from Alingsås to Gothenburg – fifty kilometres for 1,450 SEK – and get home before the last light had fully faded.

Then, on Friday, I attended the final TRAINS seminar this semester on two very different topics: the statutory duty to report suspected child abuse and the long shadow of the 1613 peace between Sweden and Denmark in Knäred. Having these kinds of eclectic seminars is one of the real pleasures of working at a smaller university college.

Otherwise, with a massive heatwave dominating northern Europe, daytime temperatures have been hovering around thirty degrees, making running feel more akin to training for Badwater 135. After four consecutive 80-kilometre weeks, I have decided to prioritize tapering this week and instead focus on completing this month's rowing goal, while, of course, cooling off a bit in the lakes.

Derailed

After all my years traversing the railroads of Sweden, I have developed a rather stoic equanimity when it comes to delays. Yet, when I received a text message about a derailed cargo train between Borås and Gothenburg, I immediately knew that this would be a long evening. As such, I went over to the bistro and picked up the new Adobe Rosé from Valle Central in Chile, a caprese salad, and one additional bottle of water.

Having passed Södertälje, I also have a novel by Annie Ernaux and lots to digest after my two days in Stockholm. So, right now, I am more in popcorn mode, wondering if we will be rerouted north via Trollhättan or, perhaps more excitingly, south via Hässleholm and Halmstad.

Kungsholmen

With hotel prices through the roof in Stockholm, I am staying at the same Scandic Go as back in September last year. This time, however, I got a room with windows and all, overlooking Sankt Eriksgatan, rather than the basement room – number 007 – that I was slightly hoping for.

Still, to avoid being completely on repeat, I took the opposite direction around Kungsholmen this morning after treating myself to a cinnamon croissant and a coffee. Stopping repeatedly to take photos and take in the view from Fredhällsklipporna, Stockholm felt just as familiar and foreign as it always does.

Before taking the 4 p.m. train back to Gothenburg, I hope to check out the exhibition Family – For Better or Worse at Sven-Harrys Museum.

Night scooting

Due to rail maintenance work, the first morning train from Gothenburg to Stockholm now leaves as early as 4:19 a.m. Wanting to be in Stockholm by nine, and with the ticket costing only a few hundred SEK in first class, it was the best option, even if it meant having to get up in the middle of the night. Luckily, I do not mind going to bed early.

Not knowing whether I would find an electric scooter, and with public transport still hours away, I set the alarm for 3:10 a.m. and, after a quick shower, I was on my way, ready to walk the three kilometres to the railway station. To my surprise, I found a scooter just outside the door, so, in the end, I had more than half an hour’s margin – enough time to take in the brightening easterly sky, the party crowd who had apparently decided to go straight from the club to the train, and the sleek stainless steel frame of the X2000, which would take me on a convoluted route via Borås to Stockholm.

A bus to Halland

This being my last official work week before the summer holidays, I spent the better part of the morning with Blackboard and helping stray students with different admin-related tasks. But since it is late June after all, I did so from the balcony while eating pancakes with blueberries.

Wanting to reclaim a bit of Halland, I then persuaded the kids to take the X3 bus down to Särö for a hike in Västerskog. The first time I discovered this windswept peninsula was during the HUB recce in 2024, and I was happy to see the impression that its natural beauty made on the kids. Looking out over the Western Sea, I suddenly felt a lot of hope that this may well be the beginning.

Though it meant that I had to work late tonight, I could not say no when William asked if I wanted to go to the gym with him. Since he started in January, he has made so much progress, and it is fascinating to see how committed he has become.

Vättlefjäll

Returning on bus X3 to the 13th-century church in Angered, it was Anna’s turn to check out the beautiful sixth stage of Bohusleden. Running on well-prepped trails through the calm summer morning, we stopped frequently to take photos and for a skinny dip in Stentjärn. After all we have been through over the last year, it feels so good that we are still friends and can do these things together.

Once in Bohus, we jumped on the train back to Gothenburg and, in no time at all, we were having lunch at Sun Sushi by the railway station, a familiar fixture ever since I moved back from Australia in 2008.

While a more sensible person would presumably have had enough physical activity for one day, William wanted to go to the gym, so I topped up with 5k of indoor rowing, some swimming in Delsjön, and then the last kilometres of running I needed to make it to 80 kilometres once more. With that in the books, I feel that I have done what I can to prepare for my 132-kilometre ultra two weeks from now, so it is finally time to taper.

Fair skies

Today, the orange weather warning has been replaced by the loveliest of summer mornings. Instead of Santa Cruz, I have my London coffee mug as I have just checked in for my Stansted flight in two weeks’ time. Otherwise, these days in June always bring back memories of the Breakthrough Dialogue: midsummers spent listening, questioning, and thinking by the Pacific.

Today, Anna is taking the train up from Halmstad for 14 kilometres along Bohusleden, stage six, which, oddly enough, she has never run before. With a bit of luck, we will get to swim in the lakes of Vättlefjäll and swing by that bakery in Kungälv before heading home to the kids.

Thunder

This morning, sitting on the balcony with my orange coffee cup from Santa Cruz, I watched the sky quickly darken as a massive thunderstorm came ashore. Seeing the intense red on the weather radar, I decided to skip my planned run and head over to the gym for some indoor rowing. Unfortunately, I was not quick enough, and the electric scooter ride soon felt like driving through a wall of water.

 

Luckily, the sky eventually cleared, so I was able to go for a run in the forest and then a harbour excursion with William to the gym in Lindholmen. All in all, close to three hours of exercise, meaning my summer training camp is well underway. However, to prevent any outsized gains, I had the most lovely Basque cheesecake at Alkemisten and later a hearty spaghetti carbonara for dinner.

Långevattnet

As planned, William joined me on his bike for a harbour run this morning. After passing a few closed cafés, we were relieved to find one of our favourite cafés in Sannegårdshamnen open, and we fully enjoyed our fika while watching the ferries pass by, filled with midsummer revellers heading out into the archipelago.

 

After lunch on the balcony, I decided to make the most of the kids’ computer time by biking up to Västra Långevattnet for a midsummer swim. Luckily, it was remote enough for a skinny dip, and the water temperature was a stunning 21 degrees.

The Alder Forest

With my apartment in Halmstad about a kilometre away from “Aleskogen”, an old alder swamp forest with abundant undergrowth, I often pass through on my coastal runs, listening to the birds singing. Yesterday, after a long day of meetings, I was a bit short on time but, even just skirting the edge of it, one can tell what a paradise it is for birds.

Now back in Gothenburg, I am alone with the kids for another week before taking the train to Stockholm. This means that midsummer tomorrow will be a rather toned-down affair, with nothing planned except reading a bit of poetry on the balcony. Before that, however, I hope to go for a long run around the harbour with William in the morning sunshine and also finish updating all Blackboard pages for the autumn courses.

The Real Flex

While my dad headed up to Norway for the launch of Snälltåget’s new daytime service between Oslo and Malmö, I took the train in the opposite direction to Halmstad to show my mother around campus as well as my apartment on Hallandsgatan 19, which I was pleased to see met with her approval.

Beyond showcasing Halland, we have also been able to go for a morning run together, which I always find inspiring. It is one thing to run an ultra-marathon at 47, but the real flex is obviously to run up and down the hills of Skatås at 77.

The Return of the Marking Dead

Just when I thought that the semester was over and all marking had been completed, I received 54 IR exams out of the blue with a rapidly approaching deadline. Luckily, thanks to my long-established double identity as Examinator Rex Magnificus, I was able to work my way through the whole batch.

Otherwise, I woke up on the 14th floor of Jacy’s hotel in Gårda after Anna and I had spent the night there enjoying a sumptuous 11-dish dinner and spa package prior to her early morning train to Västerås. With my parents being here in Gothenburg for a few days, the sofa was not big enough for the two of us, so a staycation was really the best way to justify an extravagant dinner in the name of household logistics.

Back at Jacy's

Aerobic volume

With nineteen days remaining until my 132-kilometre ultra in the UK, I am all in on aerobic volume, trying to keep my heart rate down and get the kilometres in. Starting at half past five, I ran a half marathon while the rest of the house was still sleeping, bringing my weekly mileage above 80 kilometres for the third consecutive week.

Afterwards, I went back up to Delsjön with my parents and William for a swim. With a water temperature of 17 degrees, I could definitely tell that I was not in Campania anymore, but it was incredibly refreshing. As for Campania, I made tuna steaks for lunch with caramelized onion and my signature salad with kale and mango.

Interrailing from above

Crossing the Apennines, snow is still visible on the higher peaks. Europe truly is our playground and, just like last night, I get that feeling of open-ended adventure: that somehow the story is far from over.

Yet, finishing the last pages of David Szalay’s Flesh, I am struck by an acute sense of physical vulnerability, a reminder of how quickly things can change, like when Anna fell on that cliff back in 2023. Though his life is so different from my own, following István around Europe has meant coming back to many places that I know, and to all their contingencies and memories. As much as I keep telling myself that I have more agency in my own life, the tiny and seemingly insignificant circumstances do have a tendency to add up over time. Looking down as we enter German airspace, I can almost see the trains criss-crossing below, like an Interrail pass holder still not knowing if the night will end in Brussels, Cologne or somewhere else entirely.

Arancia rossa

Waking up to another day of Italian sunshine, a slight hangover from last night made me trade my planned morning run for an early bus ride out to the airport. After a couple of coffees and some blood orange juice in the lounge, life is slowly returning to normal, and I can finally sum up the last few days.

Contrary to my fears on the flight down, everything went well in the end, and I have made a number of new acquaintances. Inspired by the success of the workshop, we are now planning a special issue that seeks to bring perspectives based on sufficiency and abundance into productive conversation. We are also hoping to organize another workshop in Ravenna sometime next year.

Meanwhile, back in Sweden, I have been asked to plan a new course on AI and public administration, something that I suspect could be of interest to many these days. With two more weeks of work remaining before the summer, I should be able to submit the article I have been writing on the transition to higher education and make sure that all my EU lectures for the autumn are planned and ready before August rolls around.

Friareielli

To reveal my absolute ignorance, “friarielli” has been the biggest culinary discovery of this trip. While I may well have encountered rapini in China in the past, this was the first time I tried the Neapolitan classic salsiccia e friarielli. Always weak for cabbage-like greens – for which I fully blame Gabriel and his Polish cooking – I found it an absolute treat: bold, bitter, and deeply savoury.

Sharing a bottle of Campanian red wine with my newfound Serbian friend and historian Damjan, I had one of those evenings that remind me why I would never want another job, and why I still find the world endlessly fascinating.

The abstract and the concrete

One criticism of my environmental philosophy work, to which I am largely sympathetic, is that it is too much about grand theory and too little about real lived experiences.

Wrapping up our two-day workshop at the Scuola Superiore Meridionale, the contrast could not have been sharper as my talk followed directly after a German PhD student had presented her work on “Fast Techno-Fixes, Slow Repair: Reparative Abundance Beyond the Labour–Climate Divide in Sicily’s Petrochemical Corridor”. Being a site of obvious environmental trauma, Sicily's petrochemical corridor seemed a long way from my vision of a bright ecomodern future (echoing the piece I wrote on conflicting temporalities back in 2020).

While it is easy to see the value of bottom-up approaches, one still has to recognize that they are inherently conservative. Imagine someone going to 19th century Sweden studying smallhold farmers. The intuition of most present-day social scientists would have been to find ways of making poverty slightly more bearable. In reality, mass migration to the United States and large-scale urbanization followed, paving the way for the industrial society that has allowed me to start this morning with a lovely run and a swim in the Mediterranean, completely emancipated from the serf-like conditions that existed back then. 

I guess what I am trying to say is that, sometimes, it is also important to remember the bigger perspectives, and recognize that change – which is often painful in the present – may be absolutely essential in the long run.

Sprada

Lungomare

From Bali to Beirut, few things beat a morning run and having the city to yourself before everyone else wakes up. Flying along the waterfront in my Hoka Bondis that I managed to pick up from Sellpy for close to nothing, I stop for coffee and a chocolate croissant that would make any Starbucks breakfast blush.

Now back at the hotel, I look through my pictures as I down a 1.5 litre bottle of water. With the temperature expected to climb up to 30 degrees today, I am both looking forward to and not looking forward to spending the day indoors at the Scuola Superiore Meridionale.