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.
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
Right: heading out, ready for adventure
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