After spending a luxuriously relaxing afternoon on the beach in Lysekil, it was time for us to move on - we needed to find a place to set up camp for the evening.  As the summer days in Sweden are long, there was no need to rush too quickly toward our destination and were able ramble through the water at a steady but relaxed pace.  The islands, though small mounds of rock, were like mountains to us in the kayaks - we were like water bugs skimming the surface of the water and from our vantage point, everything looked grand.  We paddled through a wonderful collection of islands and the water was very still.  We came across the most magnificent island, as if it were a magnet and we were pieces of metal.  There was a small beach, difficult for the one-man kayaks to navigate and impossible for the two-man's.  Matt and Jimmy went ahead, through the maze of rocks, to scope it out.  Meanwhile the rest of us paddled on to another section of the island and discovered a quite surprising place to land our boats.  The rock was worn as if it were cut specifically to fit our boats and we were able to paddle into the crevice where a smooth, dry rock was immediately available to provide with solid footing as we exited the vessels.  The remaining one-man kayak went to signal to the other two that we'd found a good landing point, who'd already moored their boats.  They started to unload their hulls and came over to help the rest of us land our kayaks and unload our gear.  We walked over bulbous, smooth rock to a soggy patch of grass that sat as a large, wide-mouthed bowl in a lush valley.  The rocks rose up at a great height of varying levels and was so smooth it felt completely natural to walk upon them in bare feet.  Although starving, it was difficult to resist the temptation to explore the island before settling in.  Dave and I went for a little walk and stood in awe looking around us - the wide open sea was just on the other side of the small island; it was the deepest, richest shade of blue and the sky was clean and clear.  Large sailboats and small yachts sailed by, in majesty and confidence.  The wind was blowing crisply and had a chill to it; and while the wind wasn't felt as strongly in the valley and was therefore warmer, Dave and I knew we had to set up our tent on the rock, facing the sea.  It was too beautiful to resist.  Jimmy and Erica had a similar though and set up their tent a few levels below us on a flat, smooth rock just a few meters from the bowl of grass the rest of the group set their tents in.  Our tent was jokingly called the penthouse, being placed so high up and far away from the others; this made me feel really proud.  I also felt so lucky that Dave and I had such a wonderful place to celebrate our engagement.  It was almost as if it were designed with the two of us in mind.   Of course the wind brought us back to reality - it made it a challenge to erect the tent and of course on a bed of rock, pegs are useless.  So we had to carry armloads of small rocks up to our site to help secure the tent, which would have been nearly impossible without the help of Matt, who provided mesh bags to place the rocks in, and Jimmy, who provided the elastic bands to secure to the rocks and rock-filled mesh bags. 

Once again it was dinner time and we prepared our meal - a mixture of dried packets of rice and pasta with some fresh veg tossed in.  Quite a gourmet meal, which I was quite fond of.  Each group carried on getting organized, setting up their site and cooking their meals.  After we'd all been fed, Jimmy pulled out his bag of blush wine, others pulled out cans of beer and we relaxed once again, this time under a sky that was still, shockingly, light.  It seemed as if the sun would never set.  As if to encourage it to set below the horizon, the gang went up past the penthouse to a ledge which provided a natural back-rest and settled in to watch the sunset.  We had a great time.  I did one of my favorite things to do when up on great heights and struck a few yoga poses on the highest rock I could find.  Dave jokingly threatened to do some tombstoning off the side of the cliff and was disappointed when I came running over to take a picture...he thought for sure I'd at least try to stop him.  Simon (aka Macca) entered into his own contest of seeing how far he could jump over a tarn of brown water and finally everyone gathered around to see who could scale a tiny little cliff above a pit of water, black with depth, without falling in.  Matt did some of his own rock scaling and busted his toe and got some use out of his first aid kit (the large one, as he was able to exchange that for the small one at the beginning of the trip when he discovered there was room for it afterall).  The sunset was pretty anticlimatic, but the sun itself gave a good show, blazing huge in a deep pink hue.  The sky opened just enough to shower us with a few cold pellets of rain and was enough to send us back to the bowl.  Sadly we had no campfire, but we had plenty of jokes and stories to keep each other entertained. 

In the morning I was one of the first to awake and decided to take advantage of our million-dollar view; I made myself a cup of hot tea and took my fruit and walnut breakfast to a ledge just past our tent and relished the beautiful morning.  Shortly, Dave joined me and we sat together, enjoying our breakfast and each other's company as we looked out on the sea in front of it.  Life is dotted with little magical moments; little hiccups in time that full of serenity, peace and well-being in which we feel totally connected to the universe.  This was one of them.  I wanted to stay there forever. 

As we finished our breakfast, we joined the rest of the gang down in the bowl.  A few in the group asked if I'd be willing to lead them in a yoga session, which I was of course happy to do.  We went over to a rock on the opposite side of the island and I led them through a series of gentle vinyasas that worked to stretch the muscles we'd worked the hardest in the last couple of days.  We ended the session with meditation in Dead Man's pose, heated by the warm sun with a gentle breeze lightly touching our faces.  It was a great way to start our third day of kayaking.

Left: Macca jumping a tarn
Right: The Penthouse Suite

Chapter 2

Having finished our meal and set up camp, I asked Dave if he'd like to do a little exploring of the island.  Always eager for an adventure, he said yes and we wandered over the heather, lush with purple flowers, walked over rock covered in dried moss, hopped over small crevices and did a light scramble up the rocks and found a beautiful place to rest that overlooked the sea.  From our vantage point we could see the little town of Lysekil, the ominous steeple of the church serving as a great landmark that would come in handy later when, tired of trying to read the maps, would note our location by our surroundings. 

I couldn't recall our conversation if you offered a million dollar prize.  What I do remember quite clearly, though, is Dave commanding, quite abruptly, to stand up.  I thought he was playing some sort of game and said OK.  As I stood up, he got down on one knee and nervously blurted out Erin, will you marry me?   At first I thought it was a joke and was in the process of forming a not-so-quick-witted retort, but realized that he was very serious.  Tears started streaming down my face the moment I smile and said Of course.  Of course I'll marry you!  He stood up and we hugged for a long time.  I could feel his heart beating very quickly and he had a bit of a shiver, even though it was still fairly pleasant outside.  As we were standing there, still wrapped up in a hug, the rest of the gang started making their way up the rock and passed us by to sit on a ledge a bit higher than ours to watch the sunset.  After a few more moments to ourselves, Dave suggested we join the rest of the group and tell them the big news.  We walked over to them and a bit nervously Dave said We have some news - I just asked Erin to marry me...and she said yes.  Everyone cheered and offered us a beer and we had a small toast.  I couldn't believe it.  I was engaged!  Me!  And I though how relieved my mom would be to hear the news, as I think she'd resigned herself that I would never get married and would bear her no grandchildren.  And I have to say that I had developed a healthy amount of cynisism myself.  The prospect of such a union had always made me a bit anxious and nervous in the past - the thought of it used to make me feel hot and my heart would beat a little too quickly.  But with Dave it just felt natural and right.  There was no questioning it or second guessing it - we were going to get married.  We're soul mates. 

We sat on the top of the island and waited for the sunset, which takes ages in Sweden in the summer because it stays light for so long.  We took the party back down to camp where Dave pulled out a bottle of champagne.  I was shocked!  How could he have hidden that from me when we packed our bags together?  He was clever and said he'd given it to Jimmy to put in his bag at some point the night before.  So we toasted the gang and passed the bottle around for a primitive swig and Dave and I split what remained between us, drinking out of our speckled enamel camping cups.  I don't think I ever stopped smiling that night.

After the sun finally set and we'd eaten as many crisps and drank as much beer as we could, we went to sleep and one by one, the tents rustled in succession as  their inhabitants made their way out of their sleeping bags.  The rushing sound of camp stoves permeated the air as each tent group made their breakfast or heated water for a warm brew.  The day appeared to be shaping up quite nicely and after a lazy morning, we tore down camp, packed the kayaks and took off for Lysekil which was about half an hour's paddle across the water.  We were quite the spectacle as we came ashore; families gawked at us as we slowly brought our boats in - six kayaks stuffed to the gills and overflowing with dry bags of camping gear.  A very tanned, heavy-set man came walking toward us and began saying something in Swedish.  Erica, our fearless leader, took over and translated for us that the man told us it was OK to land their, but we had to move our kayaks to a remote corner of the beach so as not to disrupt the many families sunbathing there.  You should have seen us!  Even though we tried our best to be tidy and store our boats close together, we still took up a decent amount of space.  I wonder what people thought of us as we set up for a day on the beach, pulling our provisions out of the hulls of the kayaks and laying our clothes out to dry - our hair very windswept and salty - looking quite unrefined, I'm sure.  Honestly, we didn't really care about how we looked, we were just happy to be on a sunny beach, enjoying our holiday. 

In two groups we made alternating trips into the town's center to look around pick up some fresh food and booze for the night.  Lysekil was a very friendly town and it seemed that our language deficiency was not a problem as everyone spoke English - quite well, in fact.  We tried our best to make out what certain words meant, which wasn't so hard in the supermarket; ost is cheese, rokar is shrimp, skaldjur is seafood.  Thankfully, we had Erica there to translate for us if we got really stuck - like ordering from a menu that was written strictly in Swedish...or knowing which toilets were for men and which were for women.   

Left: our campsite on the first night
Right: Dave and I after getting engaged

Oh blog.  It's been awhile.  Over a month in fact.  Time slips by so quickly (isn't that a line from a song?) - and it seems that my life has turned upside down yet again.  This is tale that is best told in chapters, so let me start from the beginning.

Chapter 1
It was the best of times, it was the worst of....oh wait, that's a different story.  But then again, it does ring true.  When I last left off I was about to embark on a wonderful adventure with Dave and seven of our friends to Sweden, for a full week of sea kayaking and wild camping.  It all started out simple enough.  Dave and I took the train to Crewe where our friend, Matt picked us up.  After stopping quickly to his work to pick up these new mosquito repellent wrist bands, we went to his house where Simon was waiting for us.  We went inside and went over what gear we'd packed and watched as Matt did a check over his pack.  He'd bought this fancy scale to weigh his bag and was a little stressed out because he'd paired everything down to the barest minimum of essentials and was still overweight.  The bag read 32 kilos on the scale, and the airline had a strict weight limit of 15 kilos or less.  Dave picked up the bag to feel how heavy it was and said No way is this bag that heavy.  If it is, Erin and I are in real trouble, because our bag weighs way more than that.  Matt are you looking at pounds or kilos?  With a big laugh (and sigh of relief) Matt realized he'd read the scale wrong, and it was actually 32 pounds and he had plenty of room left.  He could bring that extra pair of sunglasses afterall!

After about an hour or two, we headed down to stay at March Cottage which belongs to Jimmy's mom and where Jimmy and Erica are living until they get married next month.  We cracked open a few beers, ate some pizza and built a fire in the pit at the back of the garden and waited for Benno and Jess to arrive.  We stayed up late and had a good crack and Benny treated us to a little bit of guitar.  After a few hours we were up again - it was early and still dark outside.  We piled into two cars and drove to the London Stansted airport, where Annie met us.  She'd had a party to go to the night before and took the last train to the airport and slept (barely) on the cold floor, waiting for us to arrive.  We got in line, checked our bags and all was going well.  Until the woman checking us in looked at my passport and asked me for my visa, which I didn't have because I was in England as a tourist.  She wasn't sure if I was allowed to make the flight to Sweden and had to call someone.  I was pretty sure I was OK to enter Sweden, but moments like these can make you nervous.  I anxiously waited as she made her phone call to check the regulations and after a few minutes she stamped my boarding pass, giving me clearance to take the flight.  For several moments afterward, I was still a bit shaken by what had happened, even though I was cleared to go through and everything was OK.  It was just hard to shake the nervousness and anxiety.  Dave ribbed me a bit and called me a worrier, and I laughed it away and tried my best to put it behind me.  Jimmy realized we were cutting it a bit close, so we quickened our pace and rushed to our gate.  We got there with minutes to spare and hopped on the plane.  The flight was about an hour and a half long and, landing on time, Ryan Air celebrated with their infamous bugle call announcing Another On Time Flight.  Some of the passengers clapped, despite our very rough landing.  We disembarked, were stamped through passport control and moved on to collect our bags.  We were tired and hungry, but excited for the adventure ahead.  After several minutes, we had all collected our belongings and headed outside where we picked up the van we'd rented for the week.  Our first stop was a supermarket in  Udavella, where we picked up some provisions.  We drove on to the kayak company, picked up our kayaks, packed 'em up (with a skeptical eye from the owners) and were off. 

We paddled our way out of the little alcove/harbor and made our way into the shallow sea waters dotted by rocky islands.  The landscape was stunning.  We were like little bugs in the water surrounded by giant boulders - each one unique.  Some islands were made of smooth rock - made up of large and undulating forms.  Others were jagged and covered in trees.  Some were a combination of both.  Some had beaches, some didn't.  Some were tall, some short.  They jutted out of the water like the backs of giant turtles or some other ancient creature.  And the water would alternate between deep indigo or emerald green and from very smooth, like glass, to very choppy as if you were in the middle of the ocean.  We paddled for about an hour, maybe more, and stopped off at a private jetty, familiar to our friend, Erica, who's grandfather moored his boat there.  We discovered wild blueberries growing and ate some directly off the bush (they were tiny Swedish berries, quite different to the big variety I was used to seeing grow on vines in America).  Some of the gang jumped off the dock for a swim while others sunbathed.  I did a quick jump in the water, but the temperature (both air and water) were too cold for my liking and besides, the waters were full of jellyfish, so I quickly hopped out and watched with amusement as a few members of the members from our gang went Tombstoning (jumping off tall cliffs into the water).  After our fun little break, we got loaded back off and headed toward our campsite.  And Erica, being from Sweden and familiar with the area, led us to the spot. 

We paddled for another hour or so, most of the time through cold rain.  We landed on the beach, which was a bit boggy, but just beyond was some tall grass where bog gave away to soft ground, perfect for sleeping on.  Shivering, we pulled out some dry, warm clothes and began to set up camp.  We were all resigned to spending a dismal night in the rain, when the rain cleared and the sun pushed through the clouds, bringing with it welcomed warmth and was accompanied by a slight breeze.  We set up a drying line, got out our stoves and filled our bellies with warm food.  Dried packets of instant pasta never tasted so good. 

Left: getting the kayaks ready at the rental place
Right: heading out, ready for adventure