As a wandering traveler, I have become a little too good at making changes. I mean drastic changes, and not only that, they happen quickly. From one day to another, sometimes one hour to another I can decide on quitting a job, quitting a course, ending one relationship or another, sometimes friendships, that I realized way back in the past just took more than they gave. Usually the quick, sometimes irrational decisions, grow out from long hours of contemplation, sometimes it’s just the thrill of something new that imposes them.
The end of another year is creeping near. It’s been a hell of a year, a hell of a ride, a rollercoaster to say the least, with overwhelming ups and downs.
This, my friends, is life. The harsh, raw, unplanned adventures that make you feel alive. The unforgettable tales you gain, the ones you choose to tell to your friends, parents, kids and grandkids.
The things you remember.
As I am trying to learn to be settled in one place, I live through my previous travels (yes, like an old lady!)
Here follows a recount of one of my mini-adventures through parts of Europe – Brighton- London – Paris – Malaga – Bristol – London – Brighton.
In this part, the focus will be on the traveling aspects, i.e. going from Brighton to London to Paris to Malaga. Parts about Malaga and returning to Britain may appear next.
Fall has been in the air here in Stockholm in the past few weeks.
There’s been many days lately when I’ve arrived at work, shouting “Fall is in the air!! I look forward to the fall.” For the most parts, my co-workers have looked at me as if I am some kind of weirdo – what Swede longs for fall? We all know too well the roughness of fall and winter, six months of pitch black darkness. At the most we’ll get a couple of hours of sunlight on a nice day.