It is thursday today. I have now been six days here in Lucerne, Switzerland.
Lucerne is a small town in the central part of the country and a popular place for tourists. It is like a miniature town from another time, filled with people living minature lives in some kind of fantasy that we only get to look at from the outside.
It is the second time here. First time was in May 2007 when I went here together with my ex-girlfriend Marina for Regi and Dans wedding. Then already I got a small glimpse of this small miniature world, but we only had 48 hours here before returning home to work, so I never had the time to properly explore the city. I have had more of that this time around.
For it’s small size, this city is packed with culture, old buildings and a long history and despite finding the average store on the shopping streets I can still appreciate it. They have found some way of mixing all these new chain stores with it’s great historic atmosphere.
Our mutual friend James surprisingly arrived here yesterday. The plan was for him to arrive friday or saturday when he got in his 1998 Jaguar XJ 8 wednesday morning in Tooting in South London and started moving south, but when he was in Luxembourg later in the afternoon, he decided to keep on going all the way here.
With the car packed with tuna sandwiches to last three days and a 20 page Google driving direction he parked outside the house on Wesemlinstrasse at 9.50pm after driving 579 miles and after 14 hours and 20 minutes on the move.
We celebrated this pleasant surprise by drinking a lot of wine.
Köln or Cologne pops up every know and then in all things related to Germany, several people I have meet during my travels is either from here or is related to the city and several friends really like the city. For me it’s my first time here though. I am staying with Sabrina that I met in San Francisco in july when we were hosted by the same guy Eric.
The city is the fourth largest in Germany and among other things famous for the Carnival that takes place every year, but the most famous tourist attraction is the cathedral, the Dom.
I got a glimpse of the Dom when i arrived by train from the airport and even though I’m not that big of a fan of sightseeing, I felt straight away that I had to go there.
The cathedral itself is from the beginning of the 13th century and a lot bigger than I thought it would be. I just stand there on the square in front of it. It is probably one of the most beautiful churches I’ve seen, a lot nicer than both the Notre Dame or St. Peters in rome. It’s impossible not to get impressed.
It must have taken hundres of years of combined hours of work from thousands of people to build this cathedral, to work on every small little detail.
During the last six months, I have noticed that I not only pay attention to things, my thoughts automatically also goes to the person behind the thing, how they have put their soul into the creation of it, the enormous amount of time and energy spent on it’s perfection.
It hits me that I’m not only in a building that has a function, practising ones belief, but that people have invested a lot into something that doesn’t directly give you anything back. An enormous building that really isn’t useful.
In todays society, this is something strange, we hardly build anything anymore that doens’t have a direct use. Concrete is popular partly because it is so easy to maintain, you don’t need someone who cut the grass or trim the garden. No one spends months anymore, carving out tiny details in a rock, everything gets done fast and it has to be cheap to maintain.
If you look at what is built today in our society as a symbol for what we as a culture think is important, it’s remarkable to observe that what is built today is Sport arenas and shopping centers.
ABB Arena, Swedbank Park, Cloetta Center.
Less and less people go to these sport events and yet we have seen dozens of these huge business sponsored arenas pop up all over Sweden, just like we have never seen so many shopping centers being built. All of them with the same stores.
These huge areas of malls is our times temples and cathedrals. Sunday mass has been replaced by sunday shopping at Ikea and Media Markt.
Today, many look at religion as an escape from reality, but in a hundred years, maybe our children’s children will look back at our society and say the same thing about shopping.
Karl Marx once called religion for the opium of the people, today we drug ourselves with entertainment and consumption. Every time has it’s drug of choice, but the question is what this so called reality we are escaping from really is.
Are we not already in the middle of it?
When I touch ground in Seattle on the 25th of October, three hours before I left Sydney, it is raining. It is fall and it’s raining.
Jet lag is a peculiar thing, and so are fall and rain. After almost nine months of sun and heat it is like a shock to land in rain, fall and darkness. It takes me a few days to adjust every time I get to a new place, but when I see the colourful leaves, the grey weather and the biting cold I also feel melancholy rising, every Swede’s heritage. The kind of feeling I have felt every fall since I was born. It is being away but at the same time arriving home. I like it.
Maybe that is why I don’t think that much of USA when I’m in Seattle, it doesn’t feel like any other place on the west coast that I have been before and therefore associate with that country, it feels different. Maybe it is all the cafés, the attitude and lifestyle of the people that make me think I’m no longer in the states. I can’t really answer that. It is what it is and again I have to re-define my image I have of a country that is so much more complex than we usually want to admit.
Maybe that is what it means to grow up, to realize that nothing is what we think it is. There is no use having opinions about things, they mean nothing, because they are always a limitied view on things, often filled with prejudice and ideas we have inherited from others who also don’t have any clue what’s going on. But media make money by polarizing, that we make a stand on issues we know very little about, that we fight our political opponents that we really have more in common with than differences. But, we get a kick out of being against something, to have someone we can win over. And then you need opinions.
I am now in Cologne in Germany. It is colder here but still the same fall. Not many weeks left now…
As you might know, the reason I am now in Sydney is not because I am that interested in laying on the beach getting a tan (I haven’t gone for a swim yet), but that my sister Jennie lives here.
Jennie has been in Australia for around seven years, first four of them in Adelaide in the state of South Australia, where she finished her postgraduate studies in Bio Medicine. After that she got a job at an institute today called NeuroScience Research Australia here in Sydney, where she is doing research which to me is completely impossible to understand.
Not only that she lives on the other side of the planet, meaning you only get to see here once a year at best, she is also doing something that for most people is unexplainable. To read her doctoral theses or her articles is about as interesting as trying to read a chinese newspaper. The only thing you can comment on is the layout or the images.
Luckily there is something in this field that you can show that people can understand.
The Laboratory.
Sure, I don’t know what all the machines do, but it brings you back to the chemistry classes in school and you can nod and be a bit impressed when she tells you what these intricate tools cost. Not that it makes her work more understandable or that the price really matters, but at least you can get that important things are going on in here.
This is how fun it is to work in a lab!
I wake up 04.58. Still remembering the dream.
I have returned home. Back to my old life. I’m back at my old job in a meeting with my manager. I remember those things I want to discuss from before I left, re-reading the notes to try to explain. I sense old feelings showing up, trying to put together the words in front of me to figure out what they are all about.
When I open my mouth to try to explain, it’s completely empty inside. Not a word comes out.
I stop. My lips are parted, the words are resting on the tip of my tongue but nothing gets said. It is empty. The air is thick, you can sense the expectations.
But nothing comes out.
Suddenly everything seems so irrelevant.
I exhale and realize there is nothing to say. That which once was no longer matter. It’s gone and will never return again.
Every week since then has been like a year. To try to re-create all this is like talking about something that happened when I was eleven. That wednesday at the dining table, when something felt extremely important. My entire world.
But now, I’m 66 years old and what happened when I was eleven is no longer significant. You have already moved on, long ago. Old hurts I have long ago forgotten, happy moments is happy memories from a time that has long since passed. I am no longer who I was then, never will be. That person is gone.
I am here right now, always will be. This is the oppurtunity for a new start, a new life. An oppurtunity not to miss, a chance I’m not going to miss.
I can’t change other peoples memories, what they think and feel, what they think about me, about things that has been.
But at least from my point of view, everything is forgiven and forgotten.
From my point of view, this is a brand new start. A brave new world. Without thoughts about how things should be. Without expectations about how things are.
A brand new start.
One of the best things to do in Australia is to drive around in the wine regions and drink free wine.
When I started working for the Student Union’s restaurant in my hometown Västerås (where I went to Univeristy) a bunch of years ago, I didn’t really like beer or wine and I was also a vegetarian, so most of the food was off limit too. But instead of finding that stuff boring, rather it increased my interest in food and wines. I started trying everything, experimenting to find my taste and as time went by, I learnt to enjoy most everything. In the end I had spent almost five years working in the industry, in all kind of places doing all types of different stuff like bartending, cooking, managing and serving 400 Irish coffees in one night at the Stockholm Beer & Whiskey Festival, before moving on.
Wine I started appreciating during the many wine tastings we had, when I found out how different wine can taste and how tastes change when you mix it with food.
Together with four collegues and friends we took a five week distance course at the Restaurant University in “Grythyttan”, which mostly focused on viticulture (the craft of growing wine) and wines. The lectures we had was mainly wine and spirit tastings and was by far the most interesting lectures I had during my University days.
You realize fast that, like with most stuff in life, you can spend the rest of your life learning about wine and still not learn everything. So when you have the oppurtunity to drive around among vineyards and taste hundreds of wines, talk to interested employees at the different places and listen to their specialties, you just don’t want to miss that. Wine will never again be just something you drink, after an experience like that.
Hunter Valley outside of Sydney is mostly famous for their white Semillons and unfortunately they don’t get the really good red Shiraz wines that I prefer, like the full-bodied, spicy varieties you get in South Australia, but that is probably good since most bottles usually cost around $20-25. So it can get expensive fast. Despite using the same vines and grapes, the climate and soil makes the Shiraz more medium-bodied which completely changes the taste. Even the same type of wine can differ in the same valley because of the micro climate and variations in soil and rain. Wine growing is very much a matter of skill and intuition paired with some luck trying to wait for the perfect day to harvest the grapes to get the perfect wine. You want as many hours of sun possible but sudden rain can easily make the end product loose much of it’s complexity and taste or even completely ruin it.
Another sad thing is also that most of the varieties you taste is impossible to find in Sweden, since only vineyards that can guarantee a certain quantity each year are allowed to sell to Systembolaget, the government owned stores. And to carry it home is a bit of a pain and to send it by mail easily double the price.
Still it is a great way to spend a few days, taking the time to drive from vineyard to vineyard, learning about the craft and finding out what types of wine you really prefer.
I’m sitting hee and trying to write, trying to get something down on the paper, but nothing interesting wants to form in my mind. All I can think of is to do something else, that everything I say is boring and meaningless. I lack the motivation to just sit down and just do it.
During the last days plenty of stuff has popped up in my mind to write about, but when I sit down to write it, nothing feels very relevant. It’s like the anxiety you get when you have a test, that well known feeling that cleaning the stove with a toothbrush until it shines, suddenly is very important. But I know that it is just an excuse to get away from something that needs to be done. Unwilling to actually get it done. The feeling that makes you leave the important and difficult stuff to last, thus giving you time to figure out thousands of things you think you should do first, although knowing all the time that none of them are very important. It’s just that it is easier to do them than to deal with the real problem.
It’s like that in our relationships too. Everything we do. We polish the surfce, whine about bullshit, fight about small shallow problems just to avoid dealing with what’s important.
All this focus on the surface is to avoid going deep. To dare to open ourselves up to the challenges we face. That’s why it is so much easier to watch movie after movie instead of turning the tv off, forcing ourselves to realize that we don’t have anything to say to the person next to us. Every night was just the same. Cook, eat, movie, go to sleep. Despite me loving to watch movies, after a while it just leaves a feeling of emptiness behind. That was what it used to be like, but nowadays I don’t seem to be able to tolerate that kind of empitness for very long. It becomes overwhelming almost immediatelly. We find all this small things to get caught up with so we don’t have to face that we are too scared to be really honest with other people and ourselves.
That’s why I sit here, by the dinner table with a black screen infront of me, writing about writing. Because I want to write, but I’m to scared to do it. And that is why I haven’t written that much on the blog lately.
When we no longer dare to be honest in all we do, we shut down our inspiration, cut the motivation at it’s root. I feel generally bored, a feeling we learn to mean that we need to find something fun to do, but what it really means is that I have shut down, I avoid to feel and to be. It means to look for somewhere to run so that I don’t have to be open and present in everything I do.
When we have shut down, closed the door, it’s easy to just let time pass, to let life go by without us noticing. We are bored, uninspired and boring, but you can get used to even that state of mind. After a while it’s normal.
At least until you actually sit still for a while, refuse to get up and clean the stove with that toothbrush, just to make something clean even more clean. If you stop for a moment you can actually recognize what you’re trying to do. Then you have the oppurtunity to be honest with yourself.
Suddenly all of this gets written in six minutes.
Creativity is not a trait we have to learn or train. It’s the state of mind we move into, or rather return to, when we stop lying to ourselves. Stop running, stop choosing the simple. When we step up to the challenge to not move until I’m done.
When we do that, suddenly we have something to say to that person next to you on the couch. It’s not that there was nothing to say earlier either, we had just forgotten how to do it.
The question we should ask ourselves when we are bored, lacking inspiration, when everything feels meaningless is not what to do to change the situation, rather it is what are we trying to avoid, what it is that we have become to comfortable to take care of.
I started this text writing about The Rocks in Sydney. About the tourist trap, The old houses, CBD, Central Business District, and the boring skyscrapers that look all the same in every city in the world. I could just as well have been in Kuala Lumpur, Singapore, San Francisco or New York. Men and women in the same kind of clothes. Same kind of jobs. Snorting cocain at sterile Stureplan clubs. Blondes with fake body parts and too much make up. The tv-series Entourage might be entertaining, but walking around in this polished world where everyone try to project that they are Perfect and Successful make me panic. Everyone can figure out that these people are just as desperat and confused as everyone else, trying to find something real to hold on to. Cultures where women wear Burqa gets blamd for being backwards, while praising the western way for being so indivdual and free, but for some reason everyone wants to look exactly the same anyway. Diversity becomes another word for choosing between brands of soda. Equality means everyone should be the same. Who we vote for is only about what side of the line we where standing when someone put that line down.
That’s why I erased the part about The Rocks. About Sydney. Maybe it will show up later.
But I don’t think so.
Me and Joy got in the car yesterday morning and headed up north, three hours in the car to Crater Lake. A lake formed within a volcano that erupted 7700 years ago and created a huge crater. Now it’s the center of attention in a national park with high peaks surrounding the lake in an astonishing environment with trails, camping and a rich animal life.
A small chipmunk run around like crazy in front of us when we stop, posing to my camera, completely without fear. They are probably used to being fed, or they are eager to get famous.
You never know nowadays.
It seems to be a very popular place for tourists to come, it’s packed with people, cars moving along the narrow roads around the rim. Wherever you stop you meet other people breathing the cold, fresh air and enjoying this unique place.
Feeding chipmunks who wants to get famous.
It’s weird.
I don’t know if is a lot more common here in the U.S. than in Europe really, but if you buy a fruit smoothie, it says on the package “contains real fruit”. Many packages has the words “contains real and artificial flavorings”.
Shouldn’t it be the opposite? When did artificial become the norm?
It should be mandatory to put on the label when the raspberries in your yoghurt is not raspberries instead of proudly tell that the raspberries you are eating are actual berries.
In Thailand we bought a pack of ice cream that you could hardly eat, and after one hour, in 35 degrees, it still hadn’t melted.
How can a pack of bread be in room temperature for three weeks without getting moldy?
Are you really sure that the cheese you eat is really cheese and not a specially produced type of fat with cheese flavors?
How can the chicken breasts you buy be large as airplanes?
There should be a label when something is not authentic:
“This burger is made, 60% of genetically modified cornstarch and full of flavours that has nothing to do with either meat or vegetables. If you should find yourself, in 20 years, having chromosomal abnormalities, weird unheard of diceases or if you die a painful and early death, we promise to refund you the $6 you paid. Promise!”.
At least you know the risks.
Now we just have to accept the fact that the food we eat is created by chemists in a lab without extensive research into it’s side effects.
That is insane.
I was in Seattle over the weekend. After an eleven hour roadtrip, hyperactive on Red Bull and aching ears after listening to music almost all the way, I rolled into the city almost an hour late. For you not in the U.S. It was Labor Day here on monday, meaning that a lot of people fled the city friday afternoon for an extended holiday. In that traffic jam I got stuck just out of Portland, holding me back for more than an hour driving around the city.
Looking at the traffic only, you would think millions live in these two cities, but the cities themselves are smaller than Stockholm. It’s just that everyone drive cars.
On Saturday, Emily, my couchsurfing host, took me and some of her friends to Bottle House, a local wineproducer and restaurant.
Emily ordered a cheese and meat platter and got the question if she wanted the “three cheese, two meat experience?”.
It is the sign of the times.
We no longer order cheese and meat for eating. We buy an experience.
Experience or no experience. It was good.
Besides wine, cheese and salami, over the weekend we had quite a few nice beers, board games and I got introduced to the hysterical tv-series of 30 Rock.
Seattle is famous for it’s unpredictable weather, unlike California, but there was actually a few really nice days. The eleven hour drive back to California was rainy though. This time I only had three Red Bulls, så my hands was not shaking as much as on the way up north.
