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.
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
Right: Dave and I after getting engaged
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