The Day I Thought My Actions Had Killed Me and My Sister


In the summer of 2008, after I, my mother and my sister had been in London for a week, going on The London Eye and visiting The British Museum, we traveled to the small seaside town of Eastbourne to relax away from all the hustle of big city tourist attractions for a few days before returning to Norway.

We relaxed, went to the cinema, I ate boar-steak at a restaurant, we watched the season finale to series 4 of Doctor Who in the hotel lobby and, crucially, tried to go swimming.


The wind was pretty bad that day, but it as sunny and warm. Due to living so close to the beach we had been wanting to go for a swim for some time, but now this desire was overwhelming to the point where no mere wind could ever deter us.

Our mother wanted to relax and read in the hotel room that day, and she mistakenly thought that her eighteen year old son would be able to keep himself and his sister safe for an hour by themselves.

I seem to remember that someone had even put up “Do not swim!” warning-flags by the beach, but we figured they had just done it early to be safe, that the weather was going to get worse later.

The waters seemed quite calm after all.


We entered the sea, and within seconds I was getting tossed around like a rag-doll. We were still in shallow waters, so I sometimes got knocked down in the sand and rocks.

When I was not getting knocked into stuff, I was having trouble orienting myself, not knowing up from down.

I feared that my younger sister was having an even harder time with the forces of nature than I was. I feared that she, or both of us, would never be able to get out of the sea again.


After what felt like ages, but was probably just a few seconds, the waves finally calmed down enough that I could break free and stand up.

I spotted my sister, who had also just managed to stand up, and we quickly started wading towards the shore.


When we reached dry land, I heard snickering.

I spotted a small group of guys sitting on the beach, laughing at us, and I realised how silly and non-threatening it all must have seemed from an outside perspective.

After all, the waves seemed quite safe to us before we entered, so for them to see two tourists tumbling around in what seemed like mostly calm waters must have been hilarious.


Well, lesson learned.

Take warnings seriously, even when all seems safe.


Valentine’s Day Sappiness


Today, seeing how it is Valentine’s day, I will write about my love for my girlfriend.

Sorry, but this is the day for it, and she is great.


We have been together for over six years now, our anniversary was almost a month ago.

I met her in the cash-register she was working in at the super-market, and proceeded to return to her register every time I went there since. In fact, I started going there far more often than needed.

One time, I bought a bouquet of roses, then handed them back to her once I had paid, saying “They are for you.”

At some point I wrote my number on my receipt and handed it back to her, so she could decide what she wanted to do. She messaged me later, we planned a date, and it went from there.


We have lived together for most of those years, and a year ago we bought our own apartment, and moved out of our rental.

We initially bonded over our mutual love of geeky popular culture and food, then later I found her to be a great travel companion, fun mountain-hiking company, interesting conversationalist, a shoulder to cry on, and my best friend.


Today we celebrated by having some wine and a meal with filled pasta, cherry tomatoes, olives and rucola.

We also ate chocolate and watched the movie Chocolat (recommended).



How was your Valentine’s?


My Trip To The British Museum, A Decade Ago


I am continuing to curate my own Facebook photos, and this time I have found some cool images from the time I visited The British Museum in 2008.

This is from the same trip to London as I mentioned in my previous post. I had taken a lot of pictures there, but most of them were very blurry, so the curation-process went rather quickly.


If you have not been, and ever get the chance, The British Museum is absolutely worth a visit.

There are plenty of interesting statues, murals, archeological curiosities and other old junk from all over the world, and timescale.


Sure, a lot of these pieces were stolen from their rightful owners during colonial times, but you can’t knock the convenience of having all these interesting things in a single location.


I am however of the opinion that if the countries that originally owned this stuff wants them back, the museum should just hand it out.

After all, it’s not like everybody wants their old stuff back. The museum would be left with plenty, I’m sure.


There is this sort of macabre sense of doing something wrong when gazing down on the mummies and skeletons of long dead people.

But it is only matter, the persons they once were have long since passed. No chance that they will take offence.



Here is the full album, with a few more pictures, if you want to see the full set.


I now sign off, with this goofy lion: