Jönköping
Category: Thoughts
Happy hammock
D brought some pictures of volcanoes to work to show me. The pictures are amazing…and part of a very effective advertising concept. The catalogue camping/outdoor equipment includes a series of [extreme] travel reports, ensuring that you keep reading and ‘accidentally’ look at their gear and the pack lists and the favourites and recommendations. It’s not immediately obvious what’s for sale and what’s just what someone happens to be wearing or carrying or using. It’s incredibly well done 🙂
As I flipped through the rest of the catalogue I came across an article about a small hammock-making company focussed on being as ethical and climate-friendly as they can. That set off an avalanche of hammock related thoughts and research.
It seems they’re not the only company making lightweight hammocks and thinking about their effect on the world. I read about several others, all with a slightly different angle. Organic cotton, well paid staff, reduced emissions, recycled/recyclable materials, European production, using the scraps for other projects… etc etc etc.
***
Nearly 20 years ago, when I went to live with people who had hammocks instead of beds, I decided I wanted a hammock too. I started playing with the idea of taking one camping a few years ago, when a friend said he’d done it. Trouble is, things like wall plugs and statics and mosquito nets and weight and the ‘right’ kinds of fibres are each enough to bog me down for weeks and I never got much further than reading and overwhelming myself in the research and putting it all off for ‘later’.
This time round I was more trigger-happy and actually bought something 🙂
Or more accurately two somethings.
I picked this up from the neighbouring town:
So cool 🙂
Also a testimony to the power of subliminal advertising.
Not that I bought it new or from the companies mentioned in or issuing the catalogue.
I figure the most ecologically beneficial purchases are the second hand ones using what already exists. This one was brand new, from one of the companies I’d just discovered and was on sale within cycling distance. Seemed way too good to miss 🙂
What a great way to spend a Saturday evening 🙂
Then I bought a ridiculously lightweight one online, also second hand, also from one of the newly discovered companies.
I assume the blue one will mostly live on the balcony and the light one will come camping with me.
This seemed like a good idea at the time..
I went to buy folders and came back with this:
It’s an aluminium (credit) card box, with a powerbank built into the back.
They had some without powerbanks too:
But they were so similar I went with the powerbank one. My thought was something like this: I can put my cards in it and keep it in my pocket without bending them and it’ll be RFID protection too because it’s aluminium.
When I got it home an unpacked it, I decided that it might have been a good idea, but it was a ridiculous box.th
The inside dividers would have probably been less flimsy if they’d been made of bin-liners…
..and the powerbank’s capacity was tiny..
..and the box didn’t fit comfortably into my pocket..
..and it has a micro USB cable..
..but apart from that..
..it was fine.
It went on the giveaway table at work and it’s gone, so hopefully someone else is happy with it 🙂
🙂
What I miss most about my flat..
Being able to crawl out of bed, go to the toilet and be back in bed and asleep in a couple of minutes, before I’m properly awake.
No deciding if I really need to go. No getting dressed, no walking across a muddy field, no trying to figure out which toilets are currently in use. No guessing which of the remaining still have toilet paper left. No opening and closing of wet tent doors, no dripping condensation onto my pillow. No waiting for my feet to dry before I can get back in my sleeping bag.
Having a toilet less than 10m away instead of almost 500m away, and not going outside to get there is an awesome thing 🙂
G’night folks (again)
Shopping and feasting (soon)
Sometimes you make sure you have enough food to get you to the next supermarket.
Sometimes you crash and don’t make it to the place you were aiming for.
Sometimes you take an extra day to hobble, wince and recover.
Sometimes you really don’t fancy another round of currants and nuts and sweetcorns.
Sometimes your nearest shop is a campsite kiosk..
Email: obstacles
Just got an ‘encouraging email’*:
“You’re cruising along on the way to your awesome goal… and then along comes a sudden storm warning…
What do you do?
Do you complain, sulk and get angry about your *uncontrollable* situation?
Or do you relax, accept the fact you’ll be delayed for a little while, and enjoy the challenge?
We all face unexpected storms. Sometimes metaphorical, and sometimes real ones!
Remember: “The obstacle in the way, IS the way ” – Ryan Holiday”
It was written by someone who was given an actual stormwarning last night. Kind of fits for my crash too..
I’m going to embrace not going anywhere today and alternately sit in the sun and on my swing and catch up with uploading pictures to the blog. And later I’m going to take advantage of the kitchen and make a campsite shop dinner special.
* I signed up for a newsletter a million years ago. Sometimes he has great things to say.
Eco icecream?
I’m lying in a hammock on the harbour front eating an eco-friendly icecream while I wait for the boat to go back and wondering..
How eco-friendly is an icecream that they only sell in a paper cup with a wooden scoopy thing (not a spoon) ?
Okay.. granted it’s not a plastic pot and a plastic spoon. That’s a pretty good start.
But.
It is printed with with coloured ink and shipped from Italy.
Every other icecream I’ve eaten this holiday has been in a waffel cone.
This stall doesn’t do waffels.
How silly is that?
Icecream was good tho 🙂
And it was made locally.
Beachraking
…because beachcombing is so last season ;p
My phone was almost dead (7%) and my powerbanks all empty when I woke up (the second time) this morning.
-> time to find a plug…
The ‘kitchen’ has a microwave and a 2-ring hob, and therefore two plug sockets -> I put my phone and a powerbank on charge and went to sit in the sun. I didn’t want to leave them and go too far away, and an hour isn’t that long…
I watched the grasshoppers and the ants and the dragonflies. I moved between the sun and the shade on the bench, then went to the log pile. I stretched a bit, looked around a bit, went to check on the phone…
“12%”
Joy.
“2 hours until full”
More joy.
I went back to my woodpile.
And then people appeared on the beach.
People with rakes and a wheelbarrow.
(Even in Sweden this isn’t normal beachgoing paraphernalia)
I watched more closely for a few minutes. It was an ‘older’* couple collecting seaweed/seagrass. She’d scoop some out with the rake and pile it up on the sand, while he’d pick it up with a pitchfork and fill the wheelbarrow.
The beach is quite long and there was a lot of seaweed.
I felt ridiculously lazy siting and watching them..
..and it wasn’t like I had anything better to do..
..so I left my woodpile and wandered over to the beach.
“Can I do that?”
She turned to look at me as if I’d just landed from Mars.
“Can I do that?” I asked again and put my hand out, gesturing for the rake.
I assumed she’d give me the rake and split the work on making and gathering piles with her (presumably) husband. Instead, she pointed at the loo block. “There’s another rake on the wall….”
The three of us worked in relative silence, punctuated by the occasional question in my direction; where are you going next, are you cycling the whole way by yourself, what do you do when you’re not cycling, … ?
Then a fourth person joined in. He nodded at me and said something in Swedish that could have meant anything from, ‘I’m joining in too’ to, ‘I’ll show you how it’s done properly’ to, ‘it’s a great day for seaweed fishing’ – I had no idea. When I asked him to say it again in English he shrugged and carried on raking. I think he might be the only Swede I’ve met this trip that hasn’t spoken English.. He was helpful though, we could round up the weed and drag it to shore from both sides without it scattering completely.
A good two hours later she announced that they were going to stop for lunch.
“I’m so grateful for your help! You can stay here tonight for free.* And yesterday.”
“Wow! Thank you! That’s great!”
*thinks*
“Are you going home for lunch? If you’re going to be here for a bit can I change some money for the shower?”
She took 3 coins out of her pocket, “Here. Is that enough?”
“Um. I don’t know.. how long do they last?”
“4 minutes.”
“Then I’d rather have 4, just in case…”
“Here”
“Perfect! Thank you, I’ll just go and get my purse to swap”
“No. That’s ok. Enjoy your shower”
There’s something very soothing about paddling in warm water with a rake, fishing out the seaweed and the algae.
Time for a shower and a change of clothes now tho 🙂
My powerbank had reached the dizzy heights of ~25%, my phone had at least got to 83%.
* I’m really not good at guessing ages, but they were (very) well over 50..
Too cold (and too sober) to be cool
[N.B. this was written in my head and started on screenpaper when I got back. I fell asleep between uploading the pictures and finishing the text so I finished writing after the evening and backdated to fit]
Someone was singing here when I rode past. Sounded pretty good so I made a note to put on a dress and come back once the tent was up.
Once the tent was up and I’d unpacked a bit, I was tired and cold and kind of sticky. I wanted a shower and to curl up in a ball somewhere soft and warm. I didn’t want to ‘people’. I could hear the music from the campsite, I didn’t need to go anywhere.
I unpacked my shampoo and my comb and my towel and put on my flipflops and my cycling jersey-windstopper-combi so I could leave the relative warmth of the tent..
..and then I put my shower stuff down and zipped up the tent door and walked along the beach to the party.
Like you do.
It wasn’t actually cold, probably 19 or 20 degrees, and there was a good path directly from the campsite to the bar. It mostly wasn’t actually on the beach, but so close it makes no difference. It was dark, but not so dark that you couldn’t see the white sand of the path against the dark of the grass next to the path. There was no mistaking the direction either – the music was loud enough to be heard from the campsite a good kilometre and got louder the closer I got, although there were a few competing stereos on the piers..
15 minutes later I was there:
The first people I noticed outside were so drunk that even wiggly lines were difficult. What looked fun earlier was now distinctly not fun-looking. The beachy-look had been exchanged for a ‘going out’ look. My bike kit might have been a tiny bit odd earlier but now it really really didn’t fit in. But I was there and so was the music and turning round and going home seemed wimpier than I wanted to be. So I looked for somewhere to sit that wasn’t inside.
The third pallet-bench was free part from the backpack to one side, so I sat on it. That meant the band was behind me and that felt stupid so I turned round and knelt on the cushion and leaned over the ‘fence’. That gave me a super view of the guitar players and all the drunk people around them.
One of the drunk people leaned over the fence from the inside and asked if I didn’t want to come in properly (which in retrospect and in a different mood might have been fun) but I absolutely didn’t. She turned back to her friends at her table and poured everyone more of whatever they were drinking.
Half an hour later the bands (they swapped every 10-15 minutes) had all finished.
Background music was turned on and the general noise of people ‘talking’ drowned it out.
I got up and walked back to my tent, picked up my shower things and went to the shower block to discover that the shower block was open but the showers only worked with 5 SEK coins of which I had precisely none.
I gave up and after a ‘Katzenwäsche’ came back to the tent..
..and was asleep more or less instantly.
Slightly antisocial?
“You can put your tent here” she said, waving her arms in the general direction of a patch of grass.
“Here?” I asked, “in the middle?”
“Yeah. Just here somewhere” she sounded like she thought she was repeating herself. “You can come back to the reception when you’ve set up.”
She walked off, presumably back to reception.
I took my pizza and headed toward the water and a bench.
If I’m given a rock hard patch of slightly slopey, well driven over grass, I’ll choose the best bit and the best angle for my tent.
Does feel a bit antisocial to put it up right where people want to walk though..
(Did keep the guy ropes short)
the Jess(e)way around 