Travelling Alone, Or Not

I used to be a solo traveller.

I was way past thirty when I got married; I lived many good years as a single woman. Occasionally, I travelled with friends, and as I got older and more confident in my ability to cope on my own, I began to travel solo.

I didn't do any 'epic' adventure trips alone. But I loved exploring and experiencing those places alone, on my own pace, free to change my plans on a whim.

So my heart beat faster and my head nodded in agreement when I read this, written by Shauna Niequist in Cold Tangerines:

There are only two things I like to do alone: reading and traveling, and for the same reason. When you travel, and when you read, you are not actually alone, but rather surrounded by other worlds entirely, the footsteps and phrases of whole other lives keeping you company as you go.

----

It felt like being at a fancy hotel's breakfast buffet, where you're so overwhelmed by the options, you almost want to give up, but more than overwhelmed, you are delighted, and you want to taste every single bite, and just walking up to the stacks of plates makes you feel like something great is happening to you. That's how it feels to be alone in a city, like something great is always about to happen to you. And it always is. There's always some side street or café or painting in a gallery or park or person or something that takes your breath away. And you look differently when you're alone. When you're with someone else, you share each discovery, but when you are alone, you have to carry each experience with you like a secret, something you have to write on your heart, because there's no other way to preserve it.

This comparison of reading and travelling hit me somewhere deep in my heart. Yes, yes. To be surrounded by the unfamiliar, to see and hear it, smell and taste it. To imagine what it would be like living there. Momentary immersion. Writing it on my heart.

But as soon as I had read this, something in me whispered: "I should not have read this right now."

We were in the middle of a family road trip. I'm no longer a solo traveller, I'm a mom traveller.

I do love travelling with my husband and my child. Seeing places not only from my perspective but theirs, too. Sharing experiences and discoveries. Again, Shauna Niequist has written eloquently about why they travel with their children:

...We travel because I want my kids to learn, as I learned, that there are a million ways to live, a million ways to eat, a million ways to dress and speak and view the world. I want them to know that "our way" isn't the right way, but just one way, that children all over the world, no matter how different they seem, are just like the children in our neighbourhood - they love to play, to discover, to learn.

        I want my kids to learn firsthand and up close that different isn't bad, but instead that different is exciting and wonderful and worth taking the time to understand. I want them to see themselves as bit players in a huge, sweeping, beautiful play, not as the main characters in the drama in our living room. I want my kids to taste and smell and experience the biggest possible world, because every bit of it, every taste and texture and flavor, is delicious.

Shauna Niequist in Bread and Wine

Yes, yes, yes to travelling together and helping my child to understand and experience that "different isn't bad" and our way is not the only right way. (I'm not so sure all the tastes and textures of the world are delicious, though. Perhaps Shauna has not yet encountered Swedish surströmming. :) )

What I really want to know is how Shauna is able to reconcile her 'solo traveller' and her 'family traveller' identities. Perhaps she gets plenty of solo travelling because of her work - speaking engagements, etc.? Enough to satisfy her taste for solo travel?

But my circumstances are different. I haven't travelled alone anywhere since getting married - 11 years ago tomorrow.

And if I start to long for solo travelling in the middle of a family road trip...? It's like seeing a little puzzle piece of my identity, a piece that has been lost under the carpet for so long that it has no place in the puzzle any more, now that the other pieces have shifted and changed shapes.

As a mom traveller, I can't focus solely on my own experiences. At least some part of my focus is always on the child - his well-being, his need for information. I need to constantly adapt my pace to his.

And yet I still have also this need for experiencing new places on my own. How do I put these pieces together? Our circumstances do not allow for me to hop off on solo trip. Getting some solitary hours in the middle of a family trip is great, when it's feasible - but I need to be more intentional about that, because if I don't ask for it, it's not going to happen.

I wonder how others solve this?

Quirky Places To Stay

I love road trip planning.

I love finding places for us to visit.

And even though we often use a tent at a campsite because it's the cheapest accommodation, we sometimes stay at hostels, too. Especially if we're only staying one night at a particular location, because putting up the tent and then packing it away takes more time and effort than we like for the sake of only one night.

BTW, when I talk about camping in a campsite, it doesn't mean 'roughing it' in the wilderness. The campsites I am talking about have communal showers and toilets, cooking facilities (as long as you bring your own pots, pans, utensils and food), even laundromats... Have a peek at www.camping.se if this sounds like a foreign concept to you.

But this time I wanted to tell you about a couple of quirky hostels.

For pictures, please click through to their websites. My pictures from these places were not very good, I'm afraid, and I don't want to snitch their pics (trying to respect copyrights here...).

Tågstallarna, Rättvik, Sweden

The name of the hostel means "train depots" - and that's literally what the hostel is. An old train depot. The showers and communal kitchen have been built into a huge depot hall, and the "bedrooms" are in old sleeping cars.

Sleeping in a sleeping car is not the most comfortable option, of course. The beds are narrow bunk beds, the 'room' is small, and there are just two toilets per sleeping car. But when we were there, there weren't too many other guests. And it definitely was an experience to remember for our young one.

There are several other trains built into youth hostels in Sweden, but this is the only one where we have stayed (this far).

If you want a bit more luxury :) - ever thought about sleeping in a prison renovated into a hostel? We have...

Hotel Gamla Fängelset, Umeå, Sweden

Gamla Fängelset = The Old Prison.

Good, clean, basic accommodation (bunk beds at least on the hostel side). I loved the surprisingly beautiful hall - heavy wooden doors, white walls, huge windows...

Långholmen, Stockholm, Sweden

Långholmen = The Long Island.

Ten points for the location: a picturesque island pretty near to the centre of Stockholm. Nice rooms. 

They try to capitalize on the history of the place as much as possible - selling prison-themed souvenirs etc. - and if you want to make the most of staying at an ex-prison, you could even do the "prisoner for a day" activity. We didn't do it. Didn't even have time to visit the prison museum, which is a pity - but perhaps we'll go back to Långholmen one day, seeing how much we like travelling to Stockholm. 

How about you? Any fun, quirky places you have stayed in? Any suggestions of where we should go, perhaps, one day, God willing?

Goals And Desires - For This Summer

I started reading Linda Dillow's What's it like to be married to me? because I had a hunch that re-reading and really thinking through this book would be a good idea.

And already from the first chapter I picked up at least one gold nugget I had forgotten: the distinction that Dillow makes between a goal and a desire:

A goal is something I want that I can also control.

A desire is something I want that I cannot control.

One of Dillow's examples is making "an intimate, sharing relationship with my husband" a goal. A relationship takes two people, and I cannot control my husband's part of it. Maybe he's not a talkative type? Maybe talking about his intimate feelings doesn't come easy to him? I can't make it my goal to make him talk to me. The more I strive to do that, the more he'll clam up. My "goal" needs to be all about my own part, for example to be such a listener that my husband can feel it's safe to talk, whenever he's ready to do that.

The distinction of goals and desires works out also in holiday planning.

I have lots of desires for the summer holiday. I want us all to have fun. I want us to share good times. I want us to connect better as family members. I want us all to grow in our relationships with God, too. And I certainly want to experience and enjoy the places and activities on our itinerary.

What I can make my goal is the part I'm responsible for. Myself.

So, my summer goals could look like this:

• I choose a good attitude. I choose to enjoy the adventure, relax, have fun, let go, smile a lot.
• I try to find ways to encourage others and choose to serve their needs with love.
• I seek God in my life, consistently.
• I avoid complaining and griping, whatever circumstances we encounter.
• I tell others honestly about my needs, so they get a fair chance to take those into account. (My husband is a great guy, but he cannot read my mind - and shouldn't be expected to!)

I know from previous years that when we travel together, one person's mood affects all the others. We're in a small car together, stay in a tent or other small lodgings together, do activities together. As three introverts, each one of us also needs some 'alone time' to recharge, and in previous years, I have sometimes felt I didn't get enough. And when I get into a bad mood, everyone suffers.

I'm reading Dillow's book in preparation for our trip. And for the sake of the rest of our lives, too.

It's not going to be perfect, ever. I'll stumble and fall. Ask for forgiveness. Start again.

But I pray God that when the tough moments come, He'll remind me of what I have set as my goal, my responsibility. The strength to choose better comes from Him.

And I'm going to enjoy the process.

Loving Stockholm

I have not always loved Stockholm the way I do now. My love affair with Stockholm has grown over the last four-five years, as I have travelled there with my family and sometimes with friends, too.

It's fairly inexpensive to go there on a 'day cruise' from here. Actually, it's two nights on the ship and you get about six hours in Stockholm. Six hours, though, is plenty of time for visiting a museum, going for a coffee and perhaps even popping into a shop or two. And walking and enjoying the city.

Stockholm, Old Town

When we arrived on our last trip, the skies over Stockholm were gray and damp. Sharp gusts of wind felt cold. No problem; we're used to this weather. At least it didn't rain (much).

We walked through the Old City. We stopped for coffee and cinnamon rolls at a nice café. We walked some more, looked into a second-hand shop, visited a museum. And walked back to the ship.

I was teary-eyed for the sheer joy of being able to walk all those distances. (Like, six kilometres altogether. For our family, it's not that much. But it feels like a lot when coming out of an injury.)

I love Stockholm at any time of the year.  The autumn and the winter are the times when cruises are at their cheapest, especially with a club card and special offers. So that's the time of year when we get to go most often. My son loves those cruises. He's still young enough to enjoy the children's programmes (sweets bingo!) and old enough to relax on his bunk bed with a good book when there's nothing special on the programme. Stockholm has wonderful museums with hands-on activities and other interesting exhibits for children, too - fantastic field trips for homeschoolers, who can take advantage of travelling outside the peak seasons. *)

But summertime in Stockholm is wonderful, too.

The summer starts with the Stockholm Marathon (usually end of May or first weekend in June), which my darling Ultra Runner has ran a couple of times. Yes, they were some of those "romantic getaway for an ultra runner" type of holidays for us two. Just you and me, honey - and thousands of runners...

At a café in Skansen. So, what do you want to have with your coffee?

There's Skansen. Open-air museum, zoo, just a wonderful place to spend a summer day.

There are lots and lots of cafés, outdoors and indoors.

Swedes know how to have a coffee break. They call it "fika": a coffee break, a good cup of coffee and a sweet, with friendship-fellowship on the side.

And the water everywhere. Just imagine what this will look like in the summer, blue water reflecting the blue skies.

And the Swedes can have a quirky sense of humour, too...

God willing, we'll be back. Sooner or later. 

If not for the Marathon, then perhaps for the Ultra...

*) I'm not saying that Helsinki does not have good museums. At some point or another, I'll write my love songs to it, as well as other places I love to go.

Married to an ultra runner...

I call my husband "The Ultra Runner"* on the blog. Because that's one aspect of who he is. I did not marry an ultra runner - he got into running when we were already married. It has become an important part of his life, and just to make it clear: I don't resent it. Not at all.

Running an ultra race is no joke. Still, having some sense of humour helps. That goes for the support crew, too. An ultra race takes a long time - long enough to think about all kinds of things.

I've read several lists that start "You know you're an ultra runner if...." but I haven't seen any from the spouse's perspective. So here's my humble effort...

(Any contributions to the list? Please comment.)

You know you're married to an ultra runner if/when....

1. Your husband has a lot more shoes than you have. (And at least 95% of them are running shoes.)
2. Your spouse also has a lot of race t-shirts. So many that he may wear a race t-shirt even when not running.
3. At least 60% of his share of the laundry pile consists of running clothes.
4. You know your husband will be gone most of the day when he goes for 'a long run'.
5. When he runs errands, he literally runs.
6. A marathon is not a big deal. (Unless he's seriously trying for Personal Best. Some ultra runners like to run marathons for a change, too. It's speed work...)
7. You may find your spouse's toe nail when making the bed.
8. Your family holidays/vacations are planned around your spouse's racing schedule.
9. Because of the above: even if you don't run yourself, you check out if there are any good ultra races in the travel destinations that you'd love to visit. ("Honey, have you ever thought of participating in Madeira Island Ultra Trail?")
10. When you go somewhere without children, just the two of you, it usually means you're his support crew at a race.
11. Then again, at some races you'll have your children in the support crew as well. (It doesn't work so well if you have babies and toddlers, but at some point, it can become great family time...)
12. When not needed as crew, you volunteer at racing events when your spouse runs. And, as above, you take the children along when they're old enough to volunteer, too.
13. You know not to plan any big stuff for the post-race days. (If you've been crewing for him or volunteering at the event, you both need your recovery time.)
14. Actually, you don't plan big stuff for pre-race days either. You don't even think of having an important, serious conversation right before the race. Why try that when most of his mind is on the race, anyway?
15. You're often amazed by your spouse's grit, endurance, determination and focus.

Disclaimer: please don't get the idea that our family life revolves around the Ultra Runner's training and race schedule. He's really good about that, he takes care to plan and carry out his training and races so that his running does not take much away from our family life. It's flexibility and 'treat others the same way you want them to treat you' all around.

And I actually like going to the races with him. We've been to places we might not have visited otherwise. I've met lovely, interesting people. I might even have acquired a little bit of grit and endurance myself, too.

*) For those who don't know, ultra running means running distances longer than the marathon, i.e. longer than 42.195 km (26 miles). Ultra races range from 50K to 1000M, 6 hours to 6 days, so there's great variation.

New Year, Same Me

I walked to the health centre and back yesterday. Just a bit over one kilometre each way, but with the ankle surgery and all, it's more than I've done for weeks. I began feel like myself again: a woman who walks.

A new year, a new me? Perhaps not. I don't want to change into a new person. Learn new good habits: Yes. Change the way I think about some things: Yes, when necessary. Learn new skills: Yes.

But I'm not planning a major personality overhaul. It's not a "new me" - it's the same me, a middle-aged (gasp!) woman, with certain talents and strengths, as well as undeniable weaknesses. Most importantly, I am a woman beloved and redeemed by Jesus.
Jesus makes me free.
Besides, He has already made me a new creature.

Therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creature; 

the old things passed away; behold, new things have come.

2 Corinthians 5:17

And as a woman freed by Jesus I don't need to make myself 'new' all over again. But I can be a woman who takes up new challenges without being deterred by fear of failure.

Challenge 1: I have decided to learn to type with ten fingers. Right now, I have a pretty fast system of 2-and-half fingers or so. Just consider, I've been typing for my living for almost half my life (translating), and before that, I used first a typewriter and then a computer for my university assignments. Still, I've never bothered to learn a proper typing system. It's high time to try.

Challenge 2: New computer skills. :) My son got a new computer and I set it up for him - though it was not very techie stuff. So what's the challenge? Short answer: the first time I've ever encountered Windows 8. Let's just say - it's going to take some getting used to.

As a side note: I've been using Windows computers since Windows 3.1, i.e. since the early 1990's, and I'm not completely helpless, non-techie as I am. I know that I'll get used to the navigation system of Windows 8, just as I have adapted to all the changes in between - Windows 95, NT, XP and so on... But it takes time to get to the point where using the new system becomes natural enough not to require extra effort.

Finally, Junior Bookworm got to try his computer. He was happily playing a game at the Lego site and suddenly he shouted: "Mummy, help!"

The screen was sideways. I have no clue how that happened. It's a laptop, not a tablet! This has never happened to me before.

Well, Junior Bookworm jumped from having-a-break mode to homeschool mode and did his maths assignment while I got a neckache, sitting at the computer with my head cocked to the right and trying to find and sort out the screen settings. I'm happy to report I succeeded at last.

New Year, same me. But open to new challenges, adventures, and changes. 

Probably there are even bigger changes ahead than just typing and computers. Deeper changes, too.

So, let's walk.

Adventure I didn't choose

I'm writing this at 7 AM, on a dark morning. Soon, I'll be heading to the hospital.

Another twist came up in the tale of the broken ankle. The infection is back, and it's worse.

The infection was diagnosed at another town, where we were staying for Christmas. I've been eating antibiotics and painkillers, as well as traditional Christmas delicacies, and relaxing with relatives with my foot up as much as possible.

All with the knowledge that after Christmas, the ankle needs to be operated, again.

I'm thankful that we got the holiday.
I'm thankful that I have had some time to prepare.
I'm thankful that I'm not walking this valley alone.
I'm thankful for the pretty good (and affordable) medical care system in my country.

I didn't choose this adventure. I can't control it.

God, You're in control, aren't You? I'm relying on you.

In the meanwhile, this blog will be quiet for a while, again. I'm not going to update from the hospital, and if they send me home for the weekend and schedule the op for next week, I'm going to be here with and for my family.


And now I'll go wake up my son, who wanted me to wake him up for his morning cuddle before I go.

Learning to walk

Ankle update: the cast came off on Wednesday. I can put my entire body weight on the healing ankle. In fact, I have had the permission to do that for the past fortnight, but last week's infection and pain that came with it messed with my walking practice. I'm not quite 'on schedule' with the healing process yet.

Oh, it's hard to walk. The joints are stiff, the muscles weakened. I really need to work on getting my ankle's normal mobility back. I have the instructions, and with common sense and perseverance, I should be able to rehab my ankle. All in good time. I was allowed to keep the crutches for another two weeks, for walking outdoors, where surfaces are uneven and also pretty slippery at this time of year. At home, I should walk without support.

So I do. I walk like a geriatric penguin.

It's hard to believe that only two months ago I walked a marathon in challenging terrain. Yes. An entire marathon plus some: 43K (26.7 miles). The last third of it was quite hard, as my muscles were getting tired, knees and legs aching, a sharp pain in my right heel... but I did it.

I loved the challenge of that marathon, despite the pain and hardship. I did not do it to impress anyone else. I did it to go right out of my comfort zone and to see how I would handle it. My main goal was to endure hardship and persevere until the finish line - and enjoy it as much as I could. A lot of it was very enjoyable, too: the lovely autumnal nature, fantastic views from the hilltops, other participants (the trail runners) to cheer on the way as they passed me - and some even cheered and encouraged me as they went. The Marathon of Dangers is a great event.

Now, a couple of stairs to go up or down is a challenging terrain. I need to love this challenge, too. This will take longer than a day. No one will stand next to me and say "good job stretching, way to go, keep going"...The Marathon of Dangers was one kind of an adventure. This is different - more mundane, less extreme. Still, it takes the same sort of grit to get through.

Will I endure hardship and persevere until the finish line?

Yes. I have a goal, but I'm not going to rely on my own strength to get there. God is my strength and support.

And even if I never heal completely, I can still trust God. The ultimate finish line is not 'walking normally'. It's walking in His path, wherever it takes me, and even if I'm waddling like a penguin.

Psalm 94:18-19

If I should say, “My foot has slipped,”

Your lovingkindness, O Lord, will hold me up.

When my anxious thoughts multiply within me,

Your consolations delight my soul.

Lessons in Thankfulness

Just after hitting Publish for the previous post, I got a phone call. My husband had been in a car accident.

He's OK. The car is totalled.

It could have been so much worse. No one else was involved in the accident. My husband could have been hurt pretty badly. Now, all we have lost is the car. Thank God for His grace and mercy.

At some point last night, between the phone calls and arrangements, waiting for my husband to get home, I lay down on the bed and put my sore foot up. And I thought how blessed and thankful I am that I am waiting for him to come home. We had been so close to losing him.

Or he could have been in an ambulance, or in the hospital. At the same emergency ward where I had spent the previous evening.

I was actually twice at the emergency ward last week: I got an infection in my operated ankle. First round, on Thursday, the infection was diagnosed and I got antibiotics. Second round, on Saturday, I went there again because I got a fever. They had told me to come back if I got a fever, because it might indicate the infection has gone deeper, into the bone and the metal plate, and that would require surgery.

I don't know what the fever was. According to the blood tests, the infection was beginning to go away. The surgeon reassured me that the ankle looked better. So, no need for another surgery. No need to stay at the hospital. Thankfulness. Thankfulness in the middle of waiting at the ward, praying for the people there. Thankfulness for the friends whom I knew were praying for me.

Thank God for antibiotics and the prayers of friends.

We don't celebrate the holiday of Thanksgiving in Finland. But I can't help reflecting that this has been a Thanksgiving weekend indeed.

Unexpected things happen. Bad things happen. 

But, thanksgiving.

I'll just quote from Ann Voskamp: "...if you let something steal your thanksgiving, you let something steal your joy, and if you let something steal your joy, you let something steal your strength. "  (Go read the rest of her beautiful parable at her website.)

I'm not as joyful and as strong in thanksgiving as I might be. I'm still learning. Could I have been thankful if my husband had got hurt? Or worse? I'm glad I did not have to find out.

Nothing, no day together, can be taken for granted.

It's Thanksgiving every day.

Thankfulness, Unexpected

I broke my left ankle four weeks ago. Trimalleolar fracture, surgery required. Apparently, I have quite a collection of metal in the ankle now. I've got a nice blue cast, and the ankle has been healing very well this far. In just a couple of weeks, the cast will come off and I should be able to walk without crutches.

I am thankful that I am healing pretty well. That's a 'reasonable' reason for thankfulness.

I am, of course, thankful for my supportive family members and friends, their prayers and their practical help. That's another understandable reason for thankfulness.

I am thankful that God has been with me throughout this time.

And on this journey, I've also found some reasons to be thankful that I would have never guessed. Such as:

1. The smallness of our home

Our home is very compact. I don't have a long way to go from bedroom to bathroom to kitchen. No stairs to navigate. There's not that much of floor area to clean, either.

I can stand in one point in the kitchen and reach both the counter and the dining table. I'm so glad for that: how else could I get a hot cup of coffee to the table? I need both my hands for crutches when I take steps...

2. Seeing life from the slow lane

It does me good to have to slow down and be the person with reduced mobility. The one who needs rest every fifty meters or so. The one who is looking for places to sit down.

I really need to think things through before I do them. I can do only so many things in a day: what will they be? Cannot just dash off to what I feel like doing.

3. Flabby tummy

The roll of fat on my tummy makes it easier to (self-)administer injectable medicines. Those daily injections are NOT fun, but preferable to a blood clot. I certainly never thought I'd be thankful for that tummy fat!

It's sort of interesting to see what other lessons there still are for me to learn through this experience...

This is not an adventure that I would have chosen for myself.

It's still an adventure. Every day.