First snow

This morning when I opened the curtains, Uppsala was white. Expected by all, but nobody is usually prepared. When the first snow hits with such strength as today the consequences can be severe. Cars sliding off the road, pedestrians slipping on the sidewalk and dogs ... well, dogs really don´t care much. I had an errand to the city and brought the camera to see if any good motifs turned up. Like people in distress, traffic headaches, snowy stuff, you know.

Winter comes with icy, vitalizing winds.

This is how people in other countries imagine Sweden all year around.


Car headache in Carolinabacken. Then buses also tried to go up, failing miserably. Finally the street was closed.

Home 2006

This friday Martin, Isabel and I visited the Home 2006 expo in Stockholm. We were invited by Lina, who was promoting the wood certification FSC (Forest Stewardship Council). We wandered around for a while among video games, television sets, beds, garage door openers and similar things. We also got to try out what it is like to present the weather forecast. Isabel borrowed a Samsung NV10, a pretty sexy piece of photographic equipment. I used my trusty Nikon. Here are some pics.

Isabel´s Birthday

Yesterday we celebrated Isabel´s 25th birthday. The festivities were held at dad´s house in Stenhagen. Lots of friends and family joined and spent a lovely evening. The food was very good, all prepared by Isabel´s hand. Later at night, the younger crowd set out into the Uppsalian nightlife. Congratulations once again, Isa!

The senior members of the party and cousin Siri

Opening of presents

Funghi

A Dance of Monsters

Today we remember the victims of September 11, 2001, the day of the worst attack in history on US soil. In the heart of the Big Apple, the unimaginable played before our eyes. The unthinkable. Reality had surpassed the real limit.
It was like a film of horror. Directed and enacted by terrorists, distributed to the world by the media. The physical force of the attack was striking, but I wonder if the mediatic force wasn´t just as strong. The images sent all over the world needed no explanation - planes against a blue sky scorching tall buildings. A message, designed for the television screen, promoted Manhattan´s fear to all the corners of the world. Perfect, in the perpetrator´s mind.
Although it may seem to have come from a blue sky, the origin of the attack is not a mystery. It traces back twenty years, when money and arms changed hands in central Asia. Since then, both sides have gained from the attack of the other. What began as a collaboration turned to a symbiosis of death. A dance of monsters.

The victims of 9-11 keep falling to this day. 3 000 in New York, Washington and Pennsylvania. 40 000* in Iraq.

* Civilians killed by military intervention. Source: Iraq Body Count

The Cahman Organ

This organ was built by Johan Niclas Cahman in 1728 and is located in Lövstabruk in northern Uppland. It is today in almost the same state as it was from the beginning, with it´s entire registry of 28 voices intact. The recent restauration, completed in 2006, has left it in a splendid condition and it is considered as one of Sweden´s finest historical organs.
I drove up to hear it in person, and it was well worth it. Tonight´s concert was held as part of "The Cahman Days", an annual celebration of the instrument. Remarkably, this event went down last year as well, despite the organ being unplayable due to it´s restauration.
On tonight´s program were composers like Buxtehude, Picchi, Reincken, Bach; not all well-known but worthy of sounding the pipes. The able musician was Magnus Kjellson.
The organ´s sound was like candy or cute puppies - impossible not to fall in love with. At the end we cheered "Come on, more Cahman!"... (nah, I just made that up)

Trip to France

I´ve been away for a few weeks, on a trip I made with friends to France by car. Well there, we participated in a music course. It is held every year in Provence by a swedish couple (my travel company) and is always an enjoyable experience. I want to share some photos from this trip with you.

Photos from the trip to France

Små grodorna, små grodorna...

For this years Midsummer, I tagged along Martin & Lina to visit Tom & Lotta who live on the lovely countryside close to Västerås. Everything was set for a traditional celebration, we decorated and raised the Midsummer Pole, laid the table in the garden with delicious pickled herring, fresh potato and schnapps. And right on cue, after our first skål, came the rain. We were generously showered, but fortunately our tent saved us from getting wet.
But it didn´t go on for long and the evening continued with customary dancing around the Pole, for some of us for the first time ever.
When the babies had gone to sleep, we grown-ups found some time to ponder the important issues in life. Like what foods we´d like to see come in a tube.
It was a lovely day thanks to our great hosts, the beautiful setting and all the friends.

A fine day

The swans in central Uppsala have reproduced successfully and the little swan babies are irresistible. Not only to us, but to the gulls circling around them. But Mr and Mrs Swan are very vigilant and nibble on anything that moves in too closely.

Not far from there, jazz singer Rigmor Gustafsson and Uppsala Big Band give a great concert. The outdoor auditorium is packed, but a pair of small girls prefer to play with the fallen leaves at the foot of the stage and steal everyone´s attention.

La Fiesta Roja en Råsunda

Cuando el equipo nacional de fútbol chileno juega en Europa, siempre cuenta con un gran apoyo en la graderia. El partido amistoso entre Chile y Suecia en Estocolmo no fue una excepcion. En un costado del Estadio Nacional de Futbol habia una "marea roja", constantemente de pie, cantando, bailando, celebrando la visita tan poco común de la seleccion chilena.
Llegando al estadio en metro, los carros estaban repletos con hinchas de vestido rojo. La bandera chilena habia sido la inspiracion para todo tipo de prenda, maquillaje, peinado, etc. El pasajero corriente se tiene que haber impresionado. Ya se estrenaban elaboradas consignas de los hinchas, variadas en su nivel literario pero constantes en calidad motivador. De repente alguien intervino con "Sverige!", pero en general los fans suecos guardaban un silencio respetuoso. Al salir del tren un sueco y un chileno se saludaron amistosamente, el rubio diciendo: "Tienen un buen equipo." El otro dejaba entender que no estaba tan convencido.
La vista entrando a la cancha fue impactante. La cantidad de espectadores chilenos era mucho mas grande de lo que alguien podria esperar. Aunque faltaban unos quince minutos para que empezara el partido y nadie habia pisado el pasto, el ambiente era festivo y energico. Algunos habian montado la reja y coordinaban los gritos rítmicos, agitando banderas enormes.
El numero total de espectadores esta tarde bordeaba los 35 000. De ellos 15 000 eran chilenos, sea de pasaporte o corazon, pero por la manera de meter ruido constituían una mayoria.
A la hora de cantar el himno chileno el conjunto burlesco en mi alrededor se convirtio en un coro, no diria afinado, pero respetuoso de cada silaba y diptongo, digno de cualquier CD de himnos nacionales. Luego, el turno llego al canto de los anfitriones y curiosamente muchos de poleras rojas concurrieron tambien a este coro. Por cierto, se veian muchas parejas donde un miembro tenia la polera roja y otro la amarilla, o gente que simplemente señalaba un apoyo por ambos lados. Un lindo testimonio de la integracion.
Todos los nombres importantes del equipo sueco participaron en el partido, como Henrik Larsson (Barcelona), Fredrik Ljungberg (Arsenal) y Zlatan Ibrahimovic (Juventus), pero no dieron prueba de un juego mundial. Incluso, algunos mostraron pocas ganas de meterse con dos manos en el juego. Aparte del gol de Larsson en el primer periodo, que logro callar la hinchada roja por unos pocos instantes.
Mantuvimos la fe en nuestros jugadores con saltos y consignas, mientras los suecos se sentaban tranquilamente para disfrutar del sentido favorable que habia tomado el partido. No se si fui el unico pensando - "Que no ganen por mas."
Pero mi temor se mostro injustificado en el segundo periodo. El equipo de Acosta se hizo cargo de la pelota y logro superar el arquero Isaksson. Y con eso se cumplio el deseo de cada uno en la graderia Sur de ver un gol chileno esa tarde. La confianza en el equipo fue reparada y fortalecida, y la euforia no sabia contenerse. Los suecos nunca lograron recuperar su ventaja, y el partido termino en un justo empate.

La hinchada chilena mostró un buen ejemplo de "El Duodecimo Jugador".

Manfred´s piano

My grandfather Manfred was, among many things, a great pianist and my inspiration to begin playing myself. I took the train many times in my younger years to visit him and grandmother in Dalarna and have lessons.
Since he past away the piano has been in the ownership of a church in Storvreta, in the outskirts of Uppsala, and yesterday I went to pay it a visit.
Fortunately, it was in a good condition, having recently been renovated.
The evening continued in the musical theme, with harpsichord lessons with Pär Lindh. Since I played the organ in Santiago, the time has come to this keyboard instrument, which is much more similar to the organ than the piano. Essential reading on the subject: L´Art de Toucher le Clavecin, written by François Couperin in 1717.

New header

I haven´t been at the foot of the Andes for more than three weeks now, so a change of title couldn´t wait any longer. The graphics had to be reworked too, of course.

Fixing it up

This weekend I´m assisting Martin and Lina with their renovation project. We were seven pair of hands working with the brush, hammer, saw, crowbar and steam generator. We set loose our destructive side on the kitchen, and it ended up looking like ground zero.

Uppsala greets the Sun

As if saying "Sorry for being late", the Sun showed itself from it´s brightest side this Thursday and Friday. Termometers climbed to the 20° mark and beyond, causing people to gather along the Fyris canal to sit and talk, read or just enjoy the moment they had longed for so many times the past months. Isabel and I strolled along the flow of the Fyris and observed how everybody unfolded to the warmth.
Outside my mom´s apartment, birds fill the air with genetically programmed acoustic calls and a woodpecker furiously prepares his new den.
For someone who has spent the last year and more in a city with 5 million people, it´s a rather nice place to be. Everything is so clean, the air actually consists of air, cars drive slowly and even in the heart of the city it´s possible to hear silence. Just don´t look at the price tags, or it will ruin the fun.

Madrid

Hi there!

I´m on my way home to Sweden now. My departure from Chile was delayed by the authorities because I hadn´t cared to maintain a valid visa in the country. So on Friday I tried again, and they let me go. However, my combination flight in Madrid was hopelessly lost. Have to stay here waiting for the next plane to Stockholm which leaves tonight, Sunday. Lucky for me, Macarena has a cousin in Madrid and she let me stay with her and her husband. This helps a lot.
Before it´s time to board, we will do a tour of the city on the lovely double deckers of MadridVision.

Don´t miss the upcoming summary of my time in Chile!

See you soon!

Lascar Erupts

The volcano Lascar, one of Chile´s most active, erupted yesterday after six years of silence (left). A loud explosion shook the surroundings, including the small village of Talabre with 12 families who live in the proximity of the mountain. Three eruptions followed, with decreasing intensity and left a 3000 meter high pillar of smoke and ashes. An area within 30 kms from the site was left with an unpleasant smell of sulfur.
Lascar erupts by average every 5.8 years since 1848, and it´s largest recorded outburst was in April of 1993 (right, below). At that occasion, ashes reached 22 kms of altitude and all the way to Buenos Aires, some 1500 kms away. The total amount of erupted materials was estimated to 0,1 km3.

Now why am I so interested in this volcano, you might ask?
It´s because I climbed it in November 2004. Let me tell you about this experience.

On the morning of the first day, me and my fellow adventurer Beat Baumgartner (a swiss) were picked up by the guide in his 4x4. We left the tranquil commodity of San Pedro de Atacama and headed for the high plateau, or altiplano. After travelling a while on well-kept, paved road we turned off and began to close in on our target. An epic scenery opened up with infinite, life-denying deserts to the sides and towering volcanic peaks confronting us. On the slopes we could spot shepherds grazing their llamas. We also passed Old Talabre, a village which was abandoned when Lascar threatened it´s people a decade ago.
We were headed to a canyon at the foot of the volcano which offered a suitable spot for raising a tent. It is important to give your body time to adapt to the altitude, and our guide had recommended us to do a two-day ascent. By spending a night on the altiplano your lungs learn to collect more oxygen from every breath and the final climb goes much smoother.
We raised our shelter, or rather the guide did; me and Beat just chilled, after all, we were paying this guy. After that we took an evening stroll to let us acclimatize more rapidly. We reached 3500 m, sat down and enjoyed our raisin-and-peanut-snack. This wasn´t so bad, I thought. The sun would soon set so we began to return to base. The temperature may drop rapidly since the atmosphere is thinner here. Indeed it did. When the sun was setting it became freezing cold, and my bowels did not feel OK. You see, the air which you carry inside your body expands when you go higher. So, you can imagine the discomfort. I returned quickly to the tent and refused to eat anything, hoping to keep everything "in-house".
After an incredibly cold night, morning came. It was also incredibly cold. Rapidly we deassembled our camp, or rather the guide did, and began the drive to where we would start the climb. On the way, we stopped at a lagoon for breakfast. On the menu was bread and jelly and chocolate cookies. We needed fast energy.
As far as our vehicle would take us we drove, stopping only at the wall which undisputably said "Volcano Starts Here". We were located at 4 700 m, and the guide estimated it would take us four hours to reach the crater by foot.
As we were going up my muscles became increasingly weaker and I seemed to be out of breath no matter how slowly I proceeded. Our feet stepped in volcanic gravel, there was no ice or snow on this side. The sky was completely clean-swept and if you managed to look over your shoulder, a breath taking view was awarded to you. But there was no time for sight seeing, the goal was up, up, up. It is just too exhausting to be looking around, all your energy must go into your legs.
Of course we made breaks, which I spent in horizontal mode (left, with guide). Annoyingly, the swiss didn´t seem affected at all by the altitude and strolled freely up and down the inclination.
He was also the first to reach the topside, with me and the guide following just behind.
A sensation of accomplishment, conquest and relief flowed through my aching body. It was all worth it. We were standing at 5 500 m above sea level, on the crater rim of one of Chile´s most active volcanoes. The last eruption had occurred in the year 2000, it could come again at any moment. But we were not concerned, and enjoyed the amazing view. We could see the peaks of the mountain range fade away in the horizon, glimpsing Llullaillaco, a volcano more than 150 kms away. In general, the view reminded more of what you would see from an airplane cabin than anything else. In spite of the severe dizzyness I was experiencing, I managed to take some pictures... or rather the guide did.

Beat Baumgartner and me.

Christer och Vilgot

Christer Pettersson och Vilgot Sjöman-blicken.

Domingo de Ramos

Today was dedicated to Achao and the island it is on. (See map here)
After having breakfast with two nice australians and a swiss, I boarded one of the many charming small buses that provide rural transportation. The bus crossed over to the island and soon I was strolling through Achao. It was quite dead, apart from the Palm Sunday mass that was being held in the church. I continued strolling around, hoping to find something more and came upon a sign that indicated "Outlook this way", and off I went. I had been walking for quite a while when I asked a fellow wanderer if it was much left. "Some 7 kms" he replied. "But I´m being picked up soon, you can ride with us. I´m going to a meeting with the Algea-collectors union. I´m the president." He said he had quite a hang-over from partying last night, but had come up with the perfect excuse. He was going to say that he´d been at a baptism.
Sounded pretty good to me, and soon we were speeding ahead in the truck of his friend. They talked about all sorts of things, but mostly about how brilliant the excuse was. My friend said that the outlook was some two kms further away from the place of their meeting, but they would take me there anyway. "We´ve got time" he assured. "After all, you´re the president", said the other.
We arrived and the view was very impressive. Before me a multitude of islands vanished in shades of blue. A good place to have a picnic. Soon the good persons who had brought me there drove off, and I was left to enjoy the tranquility. Between the islands you could glimpse the infinite horizon of the Interior Sea and above it, just barely visible, the rugged silhouette of the Andes. In the air around me I could see and hear several birds of prey. They sure knew how to take advantage of the upstream winds from the sea.

I had gathered my things and taken a few steps down the hill when I noticed something in the corner of my eye. It was one of the birds, a sparrowhawk if I´m not mistaken, sitting on a pole some ten meters from my position. It seemed indifferent to my presence. I brought out the camera as quickly as I could. Changed the lens holding my breath. Aimed. Before I snapped the picture, I hesitated a second or two. It was the most beautiful thing I´d seen through the viewfinder and just had to savour the moment. Click.
The bird noticed that I´d become aware of it, and sailed away elegantly.
I knew it was best picture of the day.

Chiloé

This morning I landed on the beautiful island of Chiloé, located south of Pto. Montt, some 1000 kms south of Santiago.
I dedicated the morning to Ancud, a quiet settlement on the northern side of the island. Among the things that this place has to offer is one of the last Spanish fortifications in America, with it´s cannons aiming solemnly into the channel.
I found a very bohéme pub for lunch and was able to inhale something of what was said around me. When one of the men chose the word "huevón", which is perfectly accepted in Santiago, the lady who owned the place was notably annoyed. The rest of us didn´t think more of it, until the same man said something much worse. The lady yelled "BUENA!" meaning "Enough!", and everyone was very amused, exchanging knowing smiles.
Next, I continued to Castro. This is the largest community on the island. Hoping to find some tours for tomorrow, I went to the only tourism information available (not official). The man said I was the first to ask for a tour. The fact that tourism season is over was made very clear. However, it´s quite nice not to be surrounded by germans for once and I have a good idea for a trip to make tomorrow, so all is good. Let´s just hope I´ll have the weather on my side.