Binge blogging a bodacious Baltic boat trip

Kinda looks like Jost Van Dyke up here in Scandinavia, doesn't it?

I've been working pretty hard on a bunch of different projects that involve doing stuff and writing stuff down in preparation for this 2 week Baltic sailing bender I've just embarked upon. And while writing stuff down can feel like work sometimes, I'm pretty inspired to just binge blog this Baltic stuff out!

Doesn't this look peaceful? The Swiss are a peaceful, and neutral collection of rich people who wear finely crafted mechanical watches.I love this shot. 

Why? Who knows? It could be because this little jaunt--sailing from Gotland Island (off the east coast of Sweden when I'm writing this right now in my underwear as the Germans and Argentineans run up and down the pitch) to an uninhabited Swedish island that I can't pronounce, and then on to Tallin, Estonia, and St. Petersburg, Russia--is pretty blog-er-riffic. Or maybe I just really want to share the experience. Or both. Doesn't really matter because the sailing hasn't even started yet.

Just getting here has been an adventure.

Euro fashion alert--Every Scandinavian woman under 32 wears Chuck Tailors. It's just a simple fact

And wait till you hear about my A-#1, Fool-Proof, guaranteed-to-work-every-time, jet lag cure. It's the bomb!


Oh, I can't wait any longer. The aformetioned cure is.....arrive in any random Scandinavian country where the sun never really sets in the summer and that also has an acient walled city, cobblestone streets, and tons of 32-year-old blonds wearing Chuck Taylors, then simply check in, and immediately start rocking the running no matter how disoriented you feel.

Nothing beats jetlag like fresh air, green trees, and isolated cobbled-lanes behind achient earthworks.

And what makes adventures like this so wonderful is that's no real way to know what anything is going to be like. Like when a bunch Swedish cowboys rolled up in this rumblin, low-rider suburban. All they want to do apparently was drive real slow like, drink Jack Daniels. Some wore Bret Michels style cowboy hats, and they all were WAY  into public urination! Now that's something you don't see every day on the mean streets of Belmont and Cambridge.

That's a hooptie, right?

This was at the apex of the run. All down hill from there (actually pretty flat sea level) from there. Jet lag....what jet lag?

Because you can't drive a low-rider suburban through the gate of a walled city.

Okay. There will be much more later. It all starts tomorrow.