|Oh look, I’m on an island. In the Baltic. Without a malamute. |
I’m not sure which is more surprising: me being an island I hadn’t even heard of a month ago, or travelling without a dog.
On Monday, Gustav and I flew to Copenhagen for a vacation and to attend a family celebration. Unfortunately a brief long-distance trip meant leaving Munson behind, but he’s in good hands, and undoubtedly enjoying one of Sydney’s coldest winters in recent times. Our travel time, including Singapore stop-over was only 24 hours, depositing us in Denmark about 6am amidst a brief squall of summer rain.
For the next few days we’ll be apart – Gustav hopped onto the train to Sweden, and I have this side-trip to Bornholm until the weekend. Perched off the SE coast of Sweden and north of Poland, the island is actually a part of Denmark albeit connected to the Swedish electricity grid by one of the longest submarine cables in Europe. I got here via the 866 bus across the Øresund Bridge to Ystad (home to fictional detective Kurt Wallander) and then a ferry to Rønne on the island’s west coast.
I suggested to someone that because of its location and popularity during summer vacations, I was visiting “the Hawaii of the Baltic”, but was quickly corrected with a “so, not like Hawaii at all”. However I am not here to enjoy the Whitehaven-like sands of Snoegebeck but to get a tattoo in the Nordic style.
Time to sleep.