Göteborg is at the same latitude as Sitka

Ten days ago, I arrived to Belgium for a two-night crash with Alyson and Mack. Besides two under two, I overlapped with her 80-year-old grandma who lost her home of 50 yrs when the levees broke in New Orleans, and his dad who is working on the new US embassy in London. The visit was special because they have access to the commissary. I topped up on Goldfish crackers, Honey Nut Cheerios, and peanut M&Ms.

Brugge, Belgium
Overnight train to Denmark. Forgettable.

A train, bus, walk, and hitch to the white chalk cliffs of Møn, an island on the Baltic side. Then to Copenhagen.

Møn
It looked Shire-ish
One couchsurfing night with a disenfranchised environmentalist (who said the new conservative government dropped its forestry programs in Nepal and Laos) who had just taken a job as a kindergarten teacher after two years of unemployment. He thinks kids will be good for him.

One Servas night with a WHO economist and his tenant "friend and colleague" whom he slapped on the butt more often than other friends and colleagues of my prior acquaintance. He explained the anathema of big box retailers in a country where the government does a very good job of taking care of its people, eliminating the need for a store that increases the poor's buying power.

Two Servas nights with a busy family while getting sick. Forgettable.

One night on the couch of Tamara, who is from the Faroe Islands: eighteen islands between the UK and Iceland with 48,000 inhabitants (if I'd learned this before, it stuck this time), a territory of Denmark. Abby's boyfriend, Ben, is half Faroese. Small world, Tamara grew up in the tropics of Venezuela with Carissa, my RA partner from junior year of college.

Copenhagen from the top of a 400-step tower
Now I'm in Sweden on the west coast, more Servas. Though I'm only 1/8 Swedish, it's some sort of homecoming because long before IKEA was cool, Gr. Pat & Bankaw were hanging Swedish flags on their Christmas tree.

the blue and yellow