3x Valborg

Gallows Hill

Despite my three years in Halmstad, today was the first time I ventured up Galgberget, with its nineteenth-century lookout tower, birch forest, and steep climbs. The tower even housed an anti-aircraft battery during the Second World War. Finishing my run at Espresso House with a freshly baked croissant, I felt almost as if I were back in San Diego, where Johanna and I would go for coffee runs in the mornings.

With the first three days of this week jam-packed with meetings, there has not been much time to reflect, but I look forward to turning Hallandsgatan into a more permanent home in the autumn, as Eddie will also start a new school here in Halmstad. For now, I guess it is back to work and that last sip of South Australian Shiraz.

Two hours

More than six years after Kipchoge’s highly choreographed two-hour marathon in Vienna, Sebastian Sawe broke the last great barrier and ran the world’s first official sub-two-hour race in London this morning. Meanwhile in Hamburg, my long-time Strava friend Niklas set a new marathon PR of 3 hours and 17 minutes at the age of 52, proving once again that no human is limited.

Trying to inspire the kids to adopt some of the same mindset, I took them on their longest hike ever this morning (which, apparently, also became my longest hike activity on Strava) under the most beautiful blue skies, spotting sparring deer and endless spring flowers as we traced Gotaleden eastward towards Jonsered. Topping it off with a record 15-kilometre indoor row at Nordic Wellness Örgryte, I think a recovery week in Halland is just what I need now.

Forty years later

Today marks forty years since that fateful night at reactor four of the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant, and what would become history’s worst nuclear accident. As the news media keeps recounting the events, a new report by the Anthropocene Institute brings much-needed perspective as it points out that the number of premature deaths would have been at least ten times higher had Chernobyl been a fully operational coal power plant. Though less spectacular, hundreds of thousands of people die every year from fine particulate pollution caused by the burning of fossil fuels, yet none of these deaths seem to inspire HBO documentaries or sustained public outrage. Having been to Pripyat myself back in 2016, I am not trying to trivialize the human tragedy but, given the urgency of climate change, irrational fear of nuclear energy may ultimately prove far more dangerous than radiation itself.

Saturday slow

Experiencing a sudden bout of springtime lethargy, I struggled to get out of bed this morning. After all the boundless sunshine, the sky had turned grey, and it took all my self-discipline to lace up my trail shoes and head out around Delsjön. Stopping to listen to the birds with the Merlin app, and then to spot KLM’s morning flight with the Planefinder app, I got my share of augmented reality before returning home to two boys playing Minecraft.

According to the forecast, it will stay colder, but with the sun returning, I will make another effort to go hiking with the kids tomorrow. Otherwise, I plan to spend much of the weekend clearing things out – including my multi-decade collection of Monocle – as we have finally given notice to our landlord and will be leaving Ängtegsgatan at the end of July.

Bureaucratization

Yesterday, Johanna and I drove down to Malmö for the world premiere of Kvalitetsplanen, a “performance lecture” about bureaucratization with Patrik Hall, who, some twenty-five years ago, was largely to blame for me ending up in political science. In the play, Patrik skillfully captured the paradox of the ever-increasing number of “organizational professionals” who are presenting their work as a response to bureaucratisation rather than a source of it.

Afterwards, we headed over to Vibliotek, which apparently was celebrating a decade on Södra Vallgatan, for some very Spanish tapas and happy hour prices on Estrella Damm. With the parks and fields turning green, one soon forgets that life in the Nordics is not always like this. Driving back over Glumslövs backar this morning – “där ute bland kuster och motorvägar” – everything somehow came together in one moment.

Stamboul Train

With fifty thousand Turkish Airlines miles expiring at the end of this year, train may not be the obvious choice for trips to Istanbul, but after watching Murder on the Orient Express in snow-laden Gyltige, its charm is nevertheless undeniable. Having finished The Quiet American, I wanted to read more of Greene, and the interwar years always hold a special appeal for me.

Unfortunately, for the moment, I am afraid I must focus on the 14-page review of the International Marketing programme in Halmstad that I have to read by tomorrow morning. As so many times before, I find myself wondering whether these ritualized exercises genuinely improve quality over time, or merely consume the energies that ought to be devoted to the work itself.

Bondi

Known as Hoka’s max-cushion cruiser for recovery days, the Bondi has been on my radar for years so, when Sellpy had a white pair for 400 SEK, I immediately jumped at the opportunity. Taking them out for a test run this morning, I think the shoe was just what I had been looking for and, though I do not know how many miles they already have in them, they felt plush and stable. While I primarily plan to use them for easy, sunny days on asphalt, I might also use them for longer walks, as none of my current white sneakers are any good for that.

Harbour life

Working since 5 a.m., I decided to trade my laptop for the brilliant spring sunshine, running along the quays of Gothenburg, just like a month ago, passing Amerikaskjulet and the slow churn of electric ferries crisscrossing the harbour, taking in the salty air with its mix of diesel fumes and pine tar.

After 17 kilometres, I stopped at The Alchemist for coffee and a chèvre toast with apricot jam, walnuts, and thyme, before returning home to the growing backlog of student papers to comment on. Though it exacts its price, finding time for these kinds of mid-week long runs is really worthwhile, and the coming weeks are expected to bring a lot more sun.

Upper Eden

On our way into the desert, Johanna and I stopped at a Trader Joe’s just off the I-15 to stock up on cheese and supplies. Among the shelves, a Pinot Noir with a blue label from the Santa Lucia Highlands proved irresistible (yes, embarrassing as it is, I sometimes buy wines based on the label alone). Packed with memories from the Central Coast, not far from Steinbeck country, it turned out to be just perfect for yesterday’s “Spargelzeit”, as duly celebrated in the interior of Halland with a Sunday steak and beurre noisette.

Based on all the feedback I received in California and through the internal review process, I have now resubmitted my book chapter to the editor in Singapore under its new title, “Surprisingly Green: Ecomodernism, Social Democracy, and the Limits of Eco-Centric Politics”. As always, having to cut words is painful, but I think the chapter is significantly stronger after these revisions. If the original timetable holds, the book may appear in print with Routledge sometime in early 2027.