Kayaking from Sweden to Africa: 1001 Ways to Fail (Chapter Two)
PART ONE: FALSE STARTSPART ONE: FALSE STARTS
CHAPTER TWO
WHAT COULD BE A START TO A GREAT ADVENTURE
The day had been quiet, but later in the afternoon the wind started to pick up. I decided to just paddle to the bridge abutment on the Swedish side and spend the night there, leaving the crossing to the Danish side (Copenhagen) for the next morning. But it was already too windy in Limhämnsvagen and my kayak was far too heavily laden. In the port of Limhämnsvagen I realized that I couldn’t bring all my stuff with me, so I decided to turn around. By then the wind had almost turned into a storm—the wind, currents, and shallow water churned up big unpredictable waves of up to 4 meters high. I got swept out and away from the shore on my way back.
Kayaking from Sweden to Africa: 1001 Ways to Fail (Chapter Three)
PART ONE: FALSE STARTSPART ONE: FALSE STARTS
CHAPTER THREE
THE END FOR NOW
With a solid bottom underneath my feet, I straggled to the beach, step by careful step, only to lose my footing when a big wave came crashing on the beach. I let the waves take over, bringing me (and my kayak) roaring and snorting into the country. I was still alive! The two figures that had witnessed my arrival looked at me with eyes as big as saucers. I remembered nothing of what they said, except that they just stood there and stared at me while I jumped and bounced around like a ping-poll ball to get my circulation going.
Kayaking from Sweden to Africa: 1001 Ways to Fail (Chapter Four)
PART TWO: THE REST OF THE STORYPART TWO: THE REST OF THE STORY
CHAPTER FOUR
ANOTHER BEGINNING
The last days of 1998 found me paddling leisurely along a canal. It was a cold day, but high above the sun shone brightly in a light blue sky and beneath my kayak the water was as smooth as a mirror. Spotting a hawk observing its surroundings a few meters away, I stopped paddling and let myself glide towards it.
The kayak was cutting clean, beautiful lines on the surface. All was still. Suddenly, the hawk took to flight and went after a duck. The hawk caught its prize in mid-air, bringing it down to the shore with a thud.
From peace and harmony to the sudden drama.
Kayaking from Sweden to Africa: 1001 Ways to Fail (Chapter Five)
PART TWO: THE REST OF THE STORYPART TWO: THE REST OF THE STORY
CHAPTER FIVE
LIVING LIKE A KING ON A BARGE
On the ninth day I arrived in Magdeburg and met the Elbe again. My plan was to go to Prague through the Elbe. I could feel the current. In some areas I had to take 20 strokes in order to move a meter forward. I decided to remain in Magdeburg.
I made contact with a Czech barge company, where I met Vladimir. In his office, I told him what I was planning to do. Vladimir listened without uttering a word. When he finished his workday, I got my first shower in nine days, food, and a night with a proper roof over my head.
Kayaking from Sweden to Africa: 1001 Ways to Fail (Chapter Six)
PART TWO: THE REST OF THE STORYPART TWO: THE REST OF THE STORY
CHAPTER SIX
GOING TO HELL AND ARRIVING IN PARADISE
I had been paddling for two days and I was getting tired. I had fallen on the ice-covered deck of the barge back in Usti and had badly hurt my shoulder. It ached now. After covering only twenty kilometers in a day and a half, I decided to walk the last sixty kilometers to Prague. I got the kayak out of the water and began to walk with it for the last leg of this part of my journey.
Kayaking from Sweden to Africa: 1001 Ways to Fail (Chapter Seven)
PART TWO: THE REST OF THE STORYPART TWO: THE REST OF THE STORY
CHAPTER SEVEN
WAKING UP TO A FROZEN RIVER
I decided to take a rest before continuing on my journey to Austria. I dragged my kayak out of the Vltava River and up into the pine forest. Meanwhile, the temperature continued to drop. I saw that it was 25 degrees below zero when I checked! It was like back home in the north of Sweden!
I started a fire and gathered wood for the night. Nevertheless, I didn’t get much sleep. When dawn finally broke, I dragged the kayak through the forest once again, this time to return to the river. It had frozen solid overnight!
Kayaking from Sweden to Africa: 1001 Ways to Fail (Chapter Eight)
PART TWO: THE REST OF THE STORYPART TWO: THE REST OF THE STORY
CHAPTER EIGHT
GETTING A BIT OF FROSTBITE
The dome of the Esztergom Cathedral was no longer green; it was white. When I left Prague, everything was white—the scenery was covered with a meter of snow, the tree branches were white and gently curved down in respect to Mother Earth.
Only the Danube was snowless. Thankfully.
On the radio they said that Hungary was experiencing the worst snowstorm in 40 years. I glided past Budapest and allowed the kayak to be spun round and round in the river’s weak current.
Kayaking from Sweden to Africa: 1001 Ways to Fail (Chapter Nine)
PART TWO: THE REST OF THE STORYPART TWO: THE REST OF THE STORY
CHAPTER NINE
SEEING THE EFFECTS OF THE YUGOSLAV WARS
The only sign that I had reached the Yugoslavian border were the two seemingly uninhabited houses on either side of the river. I suppose that was the border guard, but I didn’t see any living soul around.
Later in the afternoon, I reached some settlements. On the right side was the community Batina. I saw a Yugoslavian flag on the left side of the river. In hopes of finding a border guard, I headed to shore, where I landed the kayak.
Kayaking from Sweden to Africa: 1001 Ways to Fail (Chapter Ten)
PART TWO: THE REST OF THE STORYPART TWO: THE REST OF THE STORY
CHAPTER TEN
THERE AND BACK AGAIN
After my experience in Belgrade, I decided to take myself back home to Sweden and leave the kayak someplace safe in Yugoslavia. I could pretty quickly scrape up the money to return to my kayak and continue the journey when I got back in Sweden.
I put the kayak under lock and key at a hotel in Novi Sad and kissed her goodbye.
“Take care of yourself, girl. I’ll be back.”
Hitchhiking from Sweden to Africa (Chapter One)
AN UNPLANNED EVENT
Sweden, 1990. I was 19 years old and had just finished my tree planting season in the forests of Jamtland. It was backbreaking work and there was an ache in my soul to get out. Somewhere. So I stuffed my backpack with some clothes and a sleeping bag with a Goretex cover, and headed out in the fields from our cottage in the north of Sweden, Söderåsen.