Lead Up to Christmas...

Christmas is but two days away, but celebrations begin tomorrow. With northern europeans begin the majority in the camp here in turkey, tomorrow is the big day for them. But being in Turkey, things will be different for most of us from western cultures:

Firstly, that christmas isn't celebrated here. In my ignorance, I have no knowledge of what sort of acknowledgement the Muslim have for their prophet, but that will no doubt come to light in the coming days when it becomes more topical.

Second, most people are used to the snow and cold at this time of year, but apart from one days snowfall, that will be absent as well. This is where I find myself to be more at home. Warm weather, and blue skies. And even though it is not exactly summer, the sun on my back while climbing certainly gives me a welcome reminder of home at this time of the year, all the way on the other side of the world.

The one thing that will remain the same:

People coming together. I may not believe in what christmas originates from, but do believe in what it brings out in people: Sharing. Not the sharing of gifts, but the sharing of company, conversation, common values. Eating good food, meeting good people, enjoying good times.

Happy holidays.

Mission to Meis

Two days ago, the opportunity arose to get to Meis, Greece for the day. It was a trip that would be necessary at least once during my stay here in Turkey, so when Janek had to go to avoid paying an even bigger over-staying fee, I made the most of the chance.

Meis is a little island about half an hour by boat from Kas, on the south coast of Turkey. Surrounded by the crystal clear waters of the Mediterranean, it is a beautiful and tranquil place to spend a few hours, while officials on the mainland renew visas.

It is quite strange to have the Greek culture just a stones throw away. There is quite a noticeable change on arrival: The architecture, the language and the alphabet to go with it, plus a negative attitude towards 'Grossing the harbor', whatever that means.

New Beginning

It has been a long time since anything has made its way to these 'pages', and maybe it will be a long time before it happens again.

I have now been in turkey for one month. Back to old friends, and old projects. Lots of climbing and a little work. I finally got my camera out for a quick trip to discover an ancient city that most seem to have forgotten about. Left in ruins for some undisclosed or unknown reason, one is left to explore and interpret as one chooses.

It's still home to some...

Making Hay While the Sun Shines

We are back on the coast enjoying a very rare week of beautiful weather. Clear skies and low temperatures everyday making for excellent climbing conditions. And as the local farmers ‘make hay while the sun shines’ in the most literal sense, we have been trying to making the most of this unpredictable window before the rain returns.

We don't seem to be the only ones enjoying the break before the cold sets in either. There is a constant stir around the crags, with deer grazing the forest floors amid the first falling leaves of autumn, woodpeckers hopping from tree to tree, filling the air with their erratic tapping, down to the caterpillars creeping around doing whatever they do to get ready for winter.

The climbing takes its toll though, most immediately on the hands: Our skin is suffering!

'B' is for Brussels?

So our last moments in Brussels were spent drinking our last belgian beers in the bus to the airport. The consisted of a lot of running around, quick visits to the swedish embassy (Ikea,) and some less than ideal sleeping situations. Next: A couple days relax, then back to our base on the Swedish west coast...

Waiting

We are relocating for a few days. To Brussels. Have a break from climbing, and enjoy some cheap beer. The only downside is spending a night in an airport with very few benches or anywhere to sleep, (other than the floor.) A restless night awaits, but maybe some productivity will come of it...

Water

So one of the only constants here on the west coast of Sweden is water. Apart from the fact that we are right next to the ocean, it rains quite a lot. The results are, among other things, big slugs, and chanterelle mushrooms. (At least I hope that's what they were, cause I ate a few!)

POV

The view from inside and outside stugan!

CREATIVE Writing

Well as it stands, I am without a camera, and therefore have no way of providing any visual examples of the beauty of the Swedish west coast. I guess that is my motivation for an attempt to paint a picture with the only medium currently available to me: words.

As the sun begins to set, (around 2200 hours,) one doesn't really appreciate quite how far north one is. It isn't until a couple hours and maybe a movie, or a few chapters of a book later, that you look outside to see that the first star at dusk remains the only star in the ever evening sky. Darkness is only relative to the density of the clouds during those hours around 0000.

So in the opposite way a day ends, the next begins early, well before I have woken up. Rapidly changing, unpredictable weather has been the inconstant constant: Clear evenings followed by rainy mornings, with who knows what after lunch. It keeps everything green. Abundant patches of wild blueberries, and the odd group of golden chanterelle mushrooms top the mossy carpets that thrive in the damp atmosphere sustained by the pine forests. The countless granite outcrops and cliffs, are coated with lichens, matt black to fluorescent greens and yellows. Dissecting all this into hundreds of islands and inlets are the frigid waters of the Skagerrak. Part of the body of water that divides the North and Baltic seas. Its waters, far from the crystal waters of the tropics, a deep cloudy blue.

Thats what I've seen so far anyway.

New Horizons

The time has come for a change of scenery. Rising temperatures in Spain means that the landscape is beginning to turn a shade of brown, amplifying the call of 'the greener grass', bringing me to Sweden. Along with an invitation and the prospect of new friends, new culture and new challenges made it a great choice for a summer destination.

So from here I will hopefully become more diligent with my updates, and have experiences to share. I will let you know in couple of weeks...

Down Time

Recently I became victim to a minor finger injury. Nothing debilitating, but with the potential to become so. So, after an attempt to just 'climb through it' yielded only elevated discomfort, it is time to take a break to let it really heal. Being forced to take the time off climbing has provoked some interesting thoughts.

We all have something that we tend to invest the majority of our waking hours in. Be it a passion, job, or unescapable commitment, the time it consumes is not really thought about until it has to be spent somewhere else: Normally due to obligation. Days that had once been occupied by said activity, become entirely open to countless options that we had never considered. Often the first days go to waste because of the lack of the established order we all depend on. It is so easy to adopt a routine, following it for years on end, that the first indications of change are not often welcome. We get comfortable with knowing what we are going to do day to day and the chance to plan something different is rarely relished. We should in fact be constantly on the look out for these opportunities to bring us some variety. We can get so caught up in a single aspect of our lives that we close ourselves off to any possibility of new experiences.

It is important to take advantage of this down time. We will always get better, find another job, or discover a new pursuit that will found a new routine, once again leaving few precious moments for anything else.

Today

Passing what we call "time" can be something very difficult. I was recently introduced to the idea that "time" doesn't move, only we do. With that in mind, one might be able to conclude that "time" is just creation of man. Its clear that the clock is, and that people like to have a way of "controlling" the moments that pass us by, but the reality is that there is no difference between the "minutes" in which I write this, to those in which it its read. Just what we do with them. The only measures of "time" that are not merely conceptual are the cycles of the planets, but they don't seem to offer us enough accuracy in the recording of a day, let alone a lifetime. We need to record every rotation of our planet with the ticking of a watch, and every orbit of the Sun gets the next number in a potentially endless sequence. There are also "months", with individual names, but they are such an abstract way of dividing the year that they are physically undefinable.

With these measures we try to take control of every instant, constantly conscious of those we have already lived, but taking for granted the unknown and finite amount to come. We all need to act more on the idea that this day is not a "minor, insignificant preamble to something else". It is more "time" gone. An opportunity we will never have again. It must be exploited to it's fullest. Learning, enjoying, experimenting. A priceless commodity. A non-replenishable resource that could run out when we least expect it. "Time" is not here to be passed. "Time" is here to be lived.

Field Trip

Sometimes, one is required to get into the field to directly experience certain things. Being a climber, I have read a lot of "theory" about well known subjects, and locations. On monday, I will head north in searching for beautiful lines, beautiful places, and hopefully some beautiful people. I will try to get my hands on some history as well.

I have a few ideas of destinations, but the most obvious place for some exploration through the roots of climbing is the legendary Fontainebleau, France. It is the birth place of a grading system, and probably one of the original bouldering areas in the world. It has seen most of climbings best know personages, and featured in countless movies. A place every climber has heard of, and a trip to europe isn't complete without making a visit. I have made a few trips to europe, and never managed a stop there. Finally that is going to change.

When I get back I will have a good write up of everything I discover.

Language

I arrived in Spain, in September of 2006. I had just finished working my first summer in Maine, and had stopped in Germany for a week. Now, I was ready to put away the suit-case and get to work. Well, not really, but when no one speaks your mother tongue, learning is forced on you, prepared or not.

A few years before I had spent five months on the Iberian Peninsula, and so I arrived with a bit of confidence in the fact that I would have a good base of Castellano to work with. I soon found out that after about two and a half years without practice, it wasn't going to be so simple. Then adding to that, everyone I lived with spoke Valenciano, requiring a lot of dialogue to be translated for my comprehension. It is a strange position to be in: Surrounded by so many people, but quite alone. Unable to really express one's self, or interpret what one is told beyond a very basic level. Conversations end up containing a lot of words, but very little substance, bringing to mind the idea of speaking a lot, but saying very little.

That was when I really began to understand the beauty of something like climbing: It didn't matter how well we knew each other, or how well we spoke each other's language, when we climbed, we voiced everything. At the crag one witnesses their partners in the most honest emotional states. From fear to repose, anger to elation, climbing became the basis for my communication with almost everyone I met.

So they were some arduous times. Each day came to an end with muscles aching and tongue twisted. The body and the mind completely exhausted. Those days I slept extremely well.

Now im here for the third time by myself. Without any other english speakers anyway. A lot has changed. The Spanish flows unabridged, and I understand the majority of the dialect spoken here too. Climbing hasn't though. It may have increased in intensity, and the group of companions grown, but it remains the same outlet and inlet for the most basic expression.

Es muy dificil llegar a un pais donde no se habla el idioma. Se puede estar en la compania de mucha gente, pero estar completamente solo. Si no se puede comunicar, se pierde todo al rededor. Pero en la escalada, encontramos una forma comun de expresarse. En las paredes se ve las emociones en sus estados mas puros. Del miedo a la tranquilidad, la rabia a la alegria. A menudo se habla mucho sin decir nada. Pero en la escalada es el contrario. Sin hablar, decimos todo.

La primera vez que estube en Espana, la escalada era mi mejor manera de hablar. Aunque casi todo lo que dije era del miedo! Hoy en dia, controlo a la lengua mucho mas, pero la escalada sigue siendo la manera mas facil de hablar.

The Weather

The weather in Maine is a bit more spectacular than the average.

El tiempo. Siempre al extremo. En lugar de lluvia; rayos. Nubes; niebla que te convierte el mundo a unos metros al redador. Y cada puesta del sol, un momento que te hace parar. Disfrutar. Y dar gracias de estar alli.

This summer I will miss this place, and everything it offers.

Este verano voy a hechar de menos este lugar, y todo lo que ofrece.

Revision - Part 1

Time for a bit of a recap. (Though it has been more than for years, so most of this will just be pictures.)

Things began in early 2006. School was over, so I started my first real job to make a bit of money for travel. I don't remember many specifics, but I did learn the importance of integrity. Just doing what you are asked of in the work place can earn one a lot of respect, and money. Along with these come more opportunities. I got to apply this knowledge early on when I began working for the first time over-seas.

My cousin had heard I was going to be heading to the States, and got me a job at the restaurant on the island he had been summering on his whole life, Islesford. This was essentially the hub of my travel until now. Between summers (northern) I would find my self all over the place. But when the temperatures began to rise, and migratory patterns reversed, so did mine. Always back to Maine.

School's In

So "school" is in. I guess it has been for the past 22 years, 5 months, and 27 days. Seems like a long time. But when you think that about it 5 or so years was dedicated to learning to eat, speak, and life's other essentials. Then you add weekends, holidays, and sick-days. Finally you come to the last four (and a bit) years and you see that I haven't spent much of it in the classroom.

Most of us, (over the age of eighteen,) know about growing up, we know about primary, and probably about high school. Then there are those who know about tertiary education, those who know about work, and those who know about both. There are a few who don't know about either, as well. I find myself in there somewhere, knowing some things, and not knowing even more.

I hope that, in reading what I right and seeing some of the things I see, you will learn some things you didn't know, and see places you haven't seen. Be entertained, maybe even a little enlightened. Ideally I will too.

So here we go. Climbing, travel, strange languages, beautiful places, and a lot of lessons. Welcome to my "higher learning".

Para todos mis companeros Espanoles, lo siento por no traducir todo lo de antes. Es que ya me cuesta bastante escribir algo que lee bien en ingles, y si lo intento en castellano, lo cagare mas! Algunos dias escribire en castellano tambien, pero hasta entonces, aprended ingles!

Asi que, bienvenidos a mi blog, y por lo menos, se puede entender fotos en cualquier idioma!