kärleken

The mother we share

Sometimes you meet people that will be stuck in your mind forever just because you learned so much from them or because you shared something so special that no time can ever take it away from you.

Sometimes when I think about certain moments from my travels I almost feel embarrassed. Not embarrassed maybe, more like I'm blushing and I get a little bit nervous and there's a thousand butterflies in my stomach. Just because those moments are so damn beautiful and so damn cheesy-movie-alike that I don't know what to do with myself.

Sometimes it's about a lover, sometimes it's when you realise that this human being will be your sister and best friend for the rest of your life. Sometimes it's about when you have that experience of acceptance with a local family and your soul feels fulfilled. Sometimes it's a swim under the full moon and sometimes it's someone reading poetry in the middle of the day.

When you look back on it it's so overwhelming. And then you realise that there's even more to come and suddenly it feels like your blood is floating on the outside of your body and it's filled with so much oxygen it turns in to a shade of red you've never seen before.

Between oceans

It might seem like I've got it all under control. Every next step planned, my shit sorted out. But to be honest everything is fucking chaos. It's just spontanious decisions reflected of my constant need of not getting stuck. My need of moving. Not moving as in being on the run every single day. Just moving my soul to different places and moving bits of my heart into other peoples hearts. That might sound a bit messy.

But everything is a mess. It's my beautiful mess. I wouldn't want it any other way.

Always alright

SO FREAKIN GOOD
makes me wanna dance down the street

Sahara

Small things

When I was in India this spring I spent a week on Havelock, one of the Andaman Islands. We were a group of different individuals that all stayed in the same hostel. There were the three israeli best friends traveling India together for the second time with their new best friend (a young swiss guy). There was Boris, the crazy french chef with dreadlocks down to his hips, there were the finnish skateboardrampdesigner Ilari and his english friend. There was the older dutch woman who had sold everything and now traveled the whole world. There were Naama and Maor, the israeli newly weds that spent their honeymoon on shitty hostels in India (amazing!!!). We used to spend the days beach hunting or swimming. Boris cooked us pasta for dinner and Naama and I would sit up talking all night.

The whole point of this short story is that when I said goodbye to Naama she wrote her name in my journal, and accidently spelled it wrong. I've been trying to find her on facebook or online, without result. A few days ago I gave it one last shot and then, seven months later, I found her little profile. Talking to her and Maor and them telling me to come to Israel and stay with them for a while just breaks my heart. Because sometimes that's what it is all about. Hanging out with people for a super short time and then ending up with friends all over the world for the rest of your life. 

I know that I have a home in Israel. Probably several in Australia and a bunch in America or Canada. It wouldn't be hard to find a couch in the UK, Switzerland, New Zeeland, Germany or India. And I am so grateful for that. You can all come and stay in my bedroom in Mariefred too. Whenever you want.

Maor and Naama

Timshel

It feels like the only time I write something in this blog is when I'm on my way to a new adventure. I leave in a month. Heading back to Lombok and back to the surf. It's gonna be amazing to meet all the champs over there again. And the surroundings and the village and the ocean. Three weeks and then I'm on my way. 

It feels a bit different this time, like it always does. Last year when I left Sweden I felt like I knew what was coming and I knew what I could expect. I was so excited and I had the time of my life. I learned a lot. Most importantly I learned that you don't always, all the time, constantly have to be excited and oon top of the world when you're traveling. It's ok not always to be the happiest person on earth and it's ok to hate being on the road. And I think that's why it feels different this time. I know that I'm going to meet amazing people and create a lot of good stories. But I also know that during those days that I don't write history with someone else I can do it by myself and the page can be empty at the end of the day. It feels like I'm more excited about going to quiet places on my own than I've been before. I want to meet and talk more to the locals. I want to see that rock in Sri Lanka and I want to sit on that bumpy bus with my headphones on listening to a lifechanging tune. I want to do yoga in the sunset and I want to surf during sunrise. But don't get me wrong.. I'm still gonna dance my feet of for a week without a break and I'm still gonna stay in Hikkaduwa for as long as I want. Just because I can. FREEDOM my friends. Freedom.

Quiet company

it takes an ocean not to break

Just once more

Jag vet inte. Egentligen kanske jag borde börjat plugga den här hösten. Egentligen kanske jag borde ha packat ihop det viktigaste jag har och flyttat in i ett studentrum någonstans några mil bort. Jag borde ha köpt höstkläder och vinterskor. Gått ut varje helg med mina klasskamrater och sitta på ett bibliotek i veckorna. Läsa och lära. Diskutera och analysera. Jag längtar ärligt talat efter det. Efter rutinerna och att ha en vardag där jag uträttar något som gör att jag utvecklas.

Men sen tänker jag efter. Funderar på hur jag var för två år sen. När jag precis slutat gymnasiet och sparade inför den där första långa upptäcktsfärden. Jag jämför Elin januari 2012 med Elin mars 2013. Ett år av resande där emellan. Ett år av så många erfarenheter och människor och upplevelser senare. Psykiska och fysiska upplevelser. Ensam på ett tåg någonstans i Indien. Bland bästa vänner på Koh Lipe. Naken badandes under fullmånen i Hikkaduwa. Utmärglad i en sjukhussäng i Kuala Lumpur. Mitt bland dansande indonesier på ett bröllop på Lombok. På en surfbräda utanför Gerupuk. På toppen av Adams Peak bland 100-tals pilgrimer. Dansandes salsa i mörkret med dom bruna ögonen. På en klippa i soluppgången vid en liten insjö i Sri Lanka. Det finns så oändligt många händelser under det där året som format mig. Januari 2012 var vi fyra stycken, osäkra och vimsiga bland alla vana resenärer. I mars det här året var det inget konstigt eller läskigt med att vara själv i ett främmande land bland främlingar. Det var fantastiskt.

Och det är då jag tänker att jag måste få åka igen. En gång till. Jag måste lära mig lite mer genom resandet. Det finns fortfarande några platser att förälska sig i och några gamla kärlekar att återvända till. Fortfarande hundratusentals människor jag kan stöta på. Alla nya för mina ögon.

Jag funderar på hur det är att inte alls skaffa mig dom där rutinerna. Hur fantastiskt det är att inte veta var jag kommer vakna om två dagar. Hur fantastiskt det är att i princip vilken sekund som helst kunna ändra mig, gå åt andra hållet och aldrig se tillbaka. Eller så kan jag välja att stanna kvar. Att låta dagar och veckor och månader passera utan att någon egentligen bryr sig. Jag kan fastna i min drömvärld om jag vill eller så kan jag leta efter en annan. Jag kan sitta på den där motorcykeln och inte alls veta vilken avfart jag tar härnäst. Men troligen så är det den smalaste och vingligaste av dem alla. Den som leder överallt och ingenstans.

on DA road 2013

Take all of it

En fin människa sa till mig att lyssna på den här låten när du går genom en storstad på natten. Helst ska det vara kolsvart och gatljusen ska vara tända. Kanske vrålar en polisbil förbi och några fulla ungdomar staplar hem från krogen.