Visby and Late-night Kebab

I like doner... I like kabob... I like schnitzel... I don't like being unable to sleep.

I looked forward to Visby as a place to disconnect, relax, and restore. It's a quaint little town on the island of Gotland, Sweden. It has a rich and visible history and a romantic and welcoming feel. We arrive right as the tourist season was ending so we missed out on some of the attractions, but at first glance it looked to be perfect.

The town itself is gorgeous and the investments made to restore it and keep it beautiful have certainly paid off. It is a real pleasure to walk around the town and marvel at the street layout, the old buildings and the epic medieval wall that almost completely surrounds the town. Personal opinion: there should be no cars allowed in Visby, though I'm sure the residents would disagree.

We stayed on the second floor (which for Americans is the third floor as everyone else in the world correctly starts counting at zero) of a small shop in a newly renovated, nicely decorated and quite functional three-bedroom apartment. The apartment was within a one-minute walk of a convenience store and about ten restaurants. And, unfortunately, within earshot of two kebab joints. At least one of these kebab joints was open until 4am every night of the week. As most restaurants became lively around 11pm and calmed down by 1am, the patrons of this joint showed up in force around 1am and didn't leave until 4 and they were fucking obnoxiously loud. I won't say that it ruined my Visby experience, but it was very hard to enjoy it given my general lack of sleep. I really needed to recover after the disappointing Airbnb in Stockholm and this Airbnb was perfect for that except between the hours of 11pm and 4am.

I got some work done as I found about one square meter in the apartment where my laptop got a WiFi signal that was good. We cooked some home meals. We went to the beach; it was cold water, but that didn't stop the girls from enjoying themselves. We chilled. I really enjoyed much of what Visby had to offer, I just didn't get to enjoy the one thing that would have made me happiest: rest.

I make Visby sound pretty miserable, but that's really not the right story. It's a place I'll give another try, perhaps just Lisa and I. I was so relaxed during the day I didn't think about writing on the blog. We, as a family, are also still trying to get adjusted to ourselves in our new life as travelers. This has been a bit different but no more complicated than I expected. More to come on that.

Not Quite Stockholm Syndrome

Stockholm is nice. So, we're staying in SoFo (which is kinda like New York's Soho) also know as Södermalm. This happens to be the place where the Millennium Trilogy was set. It's nice, it's walkable, and it isn't ridiculously expensive (but I will say that with six people, everything seems a bit pricey). However, I have a feeling that there's something wrong, but I can't quite place it. Maybe wrong is an overstatement, but something doesn't seem quite right.

Some observations...

People think I'm Swedish more often than not.

They begin conversations in Swedish and then I say "English please" and they seamlessly convert into damn-near-perfect English with little accent. Kind of eerie actually.

Microbrews rock here.

The microbrew scene here is closest to the American scene as I've seen an any country. The selection, quality, and diversity of beers is quite enjoyable.

People here really aren't religious.

And... you don't notice, because why would you. It's just the tiny things that no one brings up. As that is, people here seem really tolerant of each other's idiosyncrasies in a way that doesn't quite remind me of home. I even find myself being unbothered. I think the constant thought that someone's whack ideology is going to make it into policy back home really weighs on me and it seems somewhat unsettling to not have that weight here. Granted, I also don't have that weight here because we're leaving Sweden in about 10 days. I feel like I'm traveling in the states without all the God stuff.

The apartment here isn't an apartment

It is a private hostel in a converted lawyers office. I'm pretty sure it isn't zoned for residential occupancy and, while bright and clean, it is not very relaxing. My inability to really relax at night has worn me thin over the last six days.

The night life here is pretty amazing from afar.

I have to admit that I'm old. I'm older when my kids are around. After spending a day with them, I rather enjoy a bedtime resembling theirs. Our place is right next door to a fantastic little local night life spot called Baras Backe with good food, good people, great beers, loud music and late hours. Every night this week I've been serenaded to sleep by a playlist mixing 90s pop, electronica and current pop music; surreal and oddly tasteful. I haven't been about to enjoy the night life first hand because I'm simply not up to the task and, somewhat amusingly, I'm okay with that.

It's oddly American here.

Retail business establishment selection and layout within the city is oddly American. I'm on a corner with five coffee shops: Tully's, Wayne's, Starbucks and two local espresso bars. It just feels like an older, hipster Brooklyn with a lot of thru business traffic (we're right between two subway stops) but without the hipster aire. Nice.

It's not hot, but it feels unbearably hot.

Nights are cool and things are wonderful in the shade. The days run from about 15C to 25C (60F to 77F); super-comfortable, right? The sun is like a death ray. It bakes immediately and (for me) induces some pretty bad headaches. I am really struggling with the environmental differences simply between shade and direct sunlight; I sound lame.

I feel isolated.

When I'm in a more rural place and have no one to talk to, it feels natural and comfortable. Here in a relatively busy and dense city, I'm surrounded by people and yet know no one. We're not here long enough to really meet people and it feels oddly isolating. I enjoy the company of my family, but it's quite fascinating that the feeling of isolation increases when surrounded by more people.

The food here is great.

No, I'm not talking about the Swedish specialties. I've come to grips long ago that Swedish food isn't really my thing. Stockholm is a very international city with lots of immigrants, lots of foods, lots of yum! I've had simply fantastic: Thai food at Ma-Now, American burgers at Prime Burger Söder, eclectic American food at Garlic & Shots, and pastries and desserts at pretty much every coffee shop we've been to. Of particular note are the fudge/mint cookies ate Tully's here. They are like slighly larger Berger cookies from home with something like a peppermint patty smashed in between the substandard cookie and epically delicious fudge. (Honest Berger cookie fans will know exactly what I mean by substandard cookie).

While the experience here is quite positive, something is a tad off and I don't quite identify with this place. Lisa wants to come back at some point and I'm sure I'll come with her and give it another go. Changes I'll make on the next trip? It won't be in August (maybe July or September) and I will be sure we stay in a bonafide living space that allows for downtime.

A Blurry Reflection

It has been just over a month (five weeks) since we all piled into a Super Shuttle to start our trip around the world. First some things in numbers… It’s been 35 days, I’ve slept in 12 different beds, touched soil in 12 countries, had 47 beers I’ve not yet had (or at least not yet recorded in Untappd), spent more hours with all of my family that I had in the proceeding 3 months, experience a high of 36C (97F) in Athens and a low of 7C (44F) in Caherdaniel, Kerry, Ireland, worked about 40 hours, flown about 20,000 miles, driven about 2,000 miles, and walked about 60 miles… and though not quantitative, I’ve showered far fewer than 35 times and I’ve smile more often (I believe unrelated).

Reflecting on these facts, it is no wonder that the last five weeks feel much longer than any other I’ve ever experienced. I predicted that it would take about two months to realize that we’re really traveling the world for a year. It’s been a blur, but it is hard to recognize what’s happening. I don’t believe I’ve fully realized that this will continue for another 11 months; I know it to be true, but it is as if I don’t know what that really means.

I had no idea what to expect upon departure, but not knowing what to expect is far from having no expectations. It’s quite challenging to remember all that has happened and reconstruct my expectations from how what we did missed the mark. So challenging that I’ve been mostly unsuccessful. I, however, am content with that. The blog posts and the pictures we are avidly collecting serve as a reminder of everything that this trip encompasses. I suppose I’ll have the rest of my life to reflect.

Yestreday we travelled from London to Amsterdam. It was a long trip made quite a bit longer by an almost five hour delay on the Eurotunnel. We walked from Piccadilly Circus to Victoria Station, took the Gatwick Express to Gatwick airport and picked up our car (inexpensive parking, easy London access and avoids all the rush hour driving traffic), then drove to Folkestone to catch the train. Only we spent almost five hours sitting in the parking lot; that sounds awful. I will tell you, I had nowhere else to be, the weather was beautiful (warm with a breeze) and I was very grateful to be stuck prior to entry into the tunnel rather than on a train in the tunnel as the poor saps were earlier that morning. We got to France around 2000 instead of around 1500, stopped in Dunkirk for dinner and rolled into Amsertdam around 0030 this morning. We had to wake the kids and walk over a mile to our houseboat and the owner wasn’t around anymore to help us out. Keys found; premise entered. It was a bit of adjustment to the Friday night night-life (until about 0300), but sleep was had and all woke well.

In the light Today the party is gone and a treasure of a village remains with a beautiful and active market on our doorstep. We fetched fresh breakfast and ingredients for a fresh dinner and I’m going to spend the remainder of my day relaxing on a fantastic house boat on a canal in the Jordaan area of Noord-Amsterdam.

It’s somewhat ironic that even while working with Circonus on the trip, I get confused and frustrated to find people not online to collaborate with only to realize later that it is Saturday or Sunday. The days of the week truly have no meaning. But today is Saturday, and it actually feels like a Saturday. I don’t have a care in the world and I’m just going to cook some handmade pasta for the family, drink some wine (I already drank my beers) and chill. Amsterdam, at least right here, right now, is the ultimate chill.