About my towel, and getting to live like a tourist for a day.
Tag Archives: travelling
Image of Budapest
Budapest is a good city for walking. Here are some of the things we saw along the way.
And our art was amazing, right?
Vienna.
This is the type of hostel I’ve always wanted to stay at but never have. When – well, when I feel like it – I think I’ll post about a bunch of highlights from this random travelling. It’s doing my soul good.
Something Budapest and Vienna seems to have in common is their preference for huge pillows. Not something to complain about.
Budapest views in greys and blues.
byee
Budapest.
I’m in Budapest and I would love to tell you all about it but I’m busy being in Budapest. You get a photo.
Kenya Art Journal 9/13
Aaand further into the desert.
Kenya Art Journal 8/13
When we went to the desert.
Back home
From my other home. Oldenburg, Germany. It’s where I went to my first Teenstreet camp, six years ago. And with the same schedule, venue, traditions it felt like coming home. Like it is the same faceless crowd every year, and each time you get to know some more of them, by saying hi in the shower line or accidentally eating next to each other.
It was weird this year though. So many people weren’t there who usually are. People I’ve talked to a lot lately, I couldn’t anymore. I found myself laughing and turning around to tell someone, only to find people who wouldn’t get that inside joke. I know now why people want partners in crime. People who have been to the same places you have, in the same order.
Anyway, I think it’s the type of thing where every year is and will be great, but also a new thing, and I’ll have to accept it as that.
On a completely different note; MY FRIEND IS GETTING MARRIED TOMORROW (!!!) My mom’s gonna do her hair. And here are some pictures of that, because it’s really, really pretty.
I Fell Into the Ocean
In Kenya.
One of the last days I was there.
Now the thing is, having lived without real bathrooms and beds for two months, I felt like it was okay to look forward to just relaxing in front of the computer when I got back.
But it fell into the ocean. With all my pictures from the journey, all old documents of things I’d written. And my phone fell as well. My camera, my lens, passport, notebooks, money, e-reader.. I fell into the ocean and I took my bag with me.
I felt empty. And sad, I don’t know why I’m always sad. But also changed, even now when I feel a lot better about it, I still feel different.Which is weird and pretentious, like something that would happen in a book. But I really do feel as if something inevitably changed in me.
And I like it, I feel free, but it also means blog posts will be more rare, and it annoys me to death that I can’t take photos. (So I guess I’ll have to write it).
Kenya Excitement
In some groups I feel like I have to sit orderly in my seat, but in some I can just collapse on the floor without caring. My outreach team is that sort of group. The guys I go with on a missions trip to Kenya in a month, we hang out and prepare and feel like a family. And I feel like I haven’t been a good speaker lately, but I was gonna do a short preaching for them, for practice, and I could just relax and share my thoughts and I think I got some confidence back. It’s funny, like God knows that Kenya was not my first choice for outreach location so he surprises me by giving me the best people to go with instead.
And I started thinking about the backpack I will carry. I wrote a blog post about it more than a year ago, Here, where I said that it stands in the corner of my cabin like a promise. It’s here now, in the house I share with eight other girls in Florida, USA. I will carry it all over Kenya. And then somewhere else. And I can’t believe that this is my now now, but that backpack will also remain my promise.
Florida mornings and full moon.
All Good Things Are Wild and Free
I stayed behind yesterday. We went downtown to have a photoshoot and I stayed when my friends went back. I walked around in that detached-from-reality kind of way and looked at how the city I stay in looks like a postcard. Clear skies and shiny metal buildings and palms and palms and palms, sun that makes your face melt off.
Then I sat down on the rocks and was happy.
And this might sound sad, but I loved going to a sea that wasn’t full of memories. In Sweden it’s tiny towns and cozy houses and driftwood, people with wrinkles too deep, an ocean that slowly breaks everything. Here everything just is. No childhood memories. Just sturdy rocks and people dancing.
The bridge before I ran over it.
The bridge after I ran over it, resting on a bench in the shade. My face was so red people gave me worried glances when they saw me.
My postcard wish is that you don’t send me home.
(Also, backstage from the photoshoot..:
wow)
eirians 