Month: November 2017

After almost eight months we were back on our beloved European continent. Lisbon was cold but welcoming. I was euphoric to see Europe again and nearly kissed the soil, but I also started to get very anxious about going to Sweden. I have been away for long periods of time on many occasions but had never experienced a homecoming without my mother’s presence. There are so many frightening firsts to go through when loosing someone.

The pretty Portuguese facades helped a little…

…as did the pretty views. We leisurely strolled around, and talked about the first time I visited Lisbon with my mother some 25 years ago. She had the wonderful ability to make every occasion feel romantic and adventurous. Life was never dull or gloomy in her presence.

When I think about my nationality I often think of myself as European rather than Swedish. The EU might not be a smooth operator in all aspects, but I feel that it has created a sense of togetherness between Europeans. What an awful word “togetherness” is! It sound like an expression of a life coach, or a team building activity lecturer. I think I prefer thinking about the EU as a fellowship, as if invented by Tolkien.

One of my favourite things about Europe is that it is so walkable – the whole continent is made for strolling, flâneuring, hiking and walking. I have not found this to be the case anywhere else in the world. I especially remember once when I asked for directions in Anchorage, Alaska, the very kind and helpful local said that it simply wasn’t possible to walk and that I would need a car (public transport never seems an option outside of NYC) – it turned out to be five blocks away and about 15 minutes walk…

After our day in Lisbon we started the very last leg of the cruise, with our sails set for England. The proximity to London is very obvious in this photo.

We were happily surprised to arrive at Gravesend, which is the harbour where Marlow  is retelling his African adventures in Conrad’s Heart of Darkness. Life is a never ending story of cultural associations.

We were now days from home and this dragon, resident of Guildhall Great Hall, pretty much sums up how I was seeing my future. Within days I was supposed to get back to the harsh reality, after living in an escapist bubble for nearly a year.

Luckily I had the support of my favourite men. Hiding from reality in dark historic pubs proved to be an excellent idea. Here we are sitting in the very seat where Dickens used to have his pint back in the olden days (among many other pubs).

Gordon is showing off and maybe exaggerates a little…

…and goes on about it several hours later when we exit Dr Johnson’s museum 🙂 Jokes aside, Gordon tends to gesticulate vividly.

With heavy hearts we had to leave our friends and London behind to board yet another train, the wonderful Eurostar, and begin the very last leg of our journey back to Stockholm. We were at least leaving in style, from one of the prettiest railway stations I know.

We traveled through 4 continents, 20 countries (9 were new to us, 11 we had visited previously); 30,000 km by land, 24,100 km by sea and 5,100 by air. Totalling nearly 60,000 km. Meaning we traveled 1.5 times around the world, although not actually circumnavigating the world, in approximately 220 days. Not very impressive if compared to Phileas Fogg, but much less stressful and competitive. This makes me think of the extraordinary journalist Nellie Bly, who beat Phileas’ fictional record in 72 days.

It always amazes me how easy traveling is, and how friendly and helpful most people are on this planet. We did not miss a single bus or train, nothing was ever stolen, no one even tried to cheat us (just the customary haggling), every single step was smooth as silk. My least favourite parts were the two flights, and the bus ride from China to Laos. My favourite parts were all the train rides, experiencing Central Asia, and encountering new and old friends.

Looking back it is sad to think of the reasons we left on this trip. The grief was so intense and palpable that it almost felt like a person, as if we were a drifting troika, instead of our usual decisive duo.

I am writing this 1,5 years after we got back, and almost 2,5 years after she passed, and I have now come to a stage where I feel deeply and truly grateful for having her in my life for 35 years. I can still be bitter and enraged for not getting another 30 or so years, which I had always expected, but I have realised how many people that never got to experience such a magical relationship with their mothers at all, so I have decided to settle with the years that I got. After all there is not much I can do, besides remembering her.

The next stop was supposed to be mysterious Ascension island, but we were told the sea was too rough to go ashore. The sea looked as calm as ever, and our disappointment soon lead to flourishing conspiracy theories about top secret military activities on the island. I loved how much gossip that took place on the ship, there were juicy stories about passengers drunkenly offending the captain, adulterous affairs, at least two people were left behind on islands due to their rudeness, and there were even people dying on board (not the Agatha Christie kind, heart attacks seemed the most common cause of death). Who knew cruises were such spectacles!

The sweet and lovely Jill was an amazing source of information, and knew everything that was worth knowing on the ship. I also loved listening to her stories of the swinging sixties in London, back when Carnaby street was the centre of the universe and place to be.

The mischievous and oh so charming Frank, had the bluest eyes and was the greatest dancer on the ship – only arthritis could hold him back (his own words, not mine)! Apparently he had a twin brother that only came out late at night and embarrassed Frank, but for some reason they were never seen together…

Diane and Dave, both former primary school teachers were just as sweet and kind as they look, talking about their grandchildren, and inviting us to their home back in Australia, but could all of a sudden start talking about their Californian road trips in the sixties, and how they did “many a things that they would not tell their children”. Which obviously made me love them twice as much!

Jeff was the first person we met on the ship, he started off a conversation by asking us if there was no age limit on the ship, are the two of you even allowed? Jeff and I are both early risers, and we used to have breakfast long before our spouses got out of bed. He saw The Beatles in Hamburg before they were famous, but did not think much of them. Imagine seeing them in a shady harbour club in the early sixties, absolutely legendary! Jeff’s wife Helen we only saw a few minutes at a time, since she was always on the run to some activity – shuffle board, bridge, bingo or just any other activity.

We got to know many wonderful people on the ship, but these two, Gordon and Gerald, will remain friends for life.  We were placed next to each other at dinner on the very first night and within minutes realised how much we had in common – literature, art, science and political views. But most importantly, the long conversations we had (for the next 36 days) slowly made me realise that life would actually get better, and become bearable, at some point in the not too distant future. I always knew this intellectually, but this was the first time that I actually felt it. The only negative aspect of this newfound friendship is that they live far, far away from Europe – in bloody Freemantle. We miss them dearly.

On this picture we are drinking champagne when crossing the equator. In 1986 I crossed the equator for the first time on an Aeorflot plane, and all passengers were given champagne. I assume I was given a substitute since I was 6 years old (but who knows, after all it was a Russian flight), but it made a big impression on me and I always remember it every time I cross the equator, although it’s never really announced nowadays. Flying might still have been a little bit glamorous in the 80’s? At least long haul flights?

Anyway, after eight days gossiping at sea we reached Casablanca. The night before arrival they showed the movie. It is one of our favourite movies so it was a lovely experience to watch it approaching the city were it was set (well sort of, it was filmed in a Hollywood studio).

We were full of anticipation and were not disappointed, the city is filled with, mainly white (hence the name) art deco houses….

…and a multitude of gorgeous cinemas.

This cinema still had the original Casablanca posters on the wall.

There is a fake Rick’s cafe in Casablanca, which is supposed to be a kitschy tourist trap (I am very fond of cheesy tourist traps!), but we were not allowed in since Joen didn’t look fancy enough. We did, however, find a bar with just the right cinematic atmosphere – slightly dystopic and simultaneously hopeful.

Most of the other passengers were not impressed by Casablanca and found it dirty, derelict and dingy – something that we rather referred to as faded beauty.

When boarding the ship in the evening we saw this man, an official who sorted the paper work, and Joen was contemplating whether he would go up to him and start a conversation and ending it with “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship“.

The end.