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So far Fredrika Ek has created 140 entries.

Australia Pt. 4 – Taking A(nother) Plunge

It was time again.

Though it does become second nature like anything else you do often enough, that tingly feeling of childlike excitement mixed with and a healthy dose of hesitance never fails. Neither did it that day. I opened my eyes. Got up, got dressed. And took another one of those exhilarating steps out of my comfort zone.

My couple of days in Halls Creek had come and gone all at once. Though thanks to staying with the lovely local teacher Shannon, I did get to enjoy a good rest while making some well needed research. The Tanami desert was up next – and I was (not really) ready for it.


Classic stock up: Oats for breakfast. Tuna for dinner. And peanuts for sanity.

I was still only a couple of weeks into Australia, but had long lost count on the number of people telling me that the 1100+ km dirt track through the Tanami simply couldn’t be done on a pushbike. And don’t get me wrong – I do listen to people giving me advice. But then again. I’ve had quite a lot of people telling me that quite a lot of stuff can’t be done on a bicycle. And in my experience they tend to be quite… wrong.

So I listened. Decided the best thing would be not to listen.

And I went.

With 14 days worth of food, and a first 25L of water I was loaded heavier than ever before. Wobbly like a child on her first ride without training wheels, I put in my first kilometers on the dusty desert road that would be my home for the upcoming weeks. And it was obvious from the start.

This would definitely be a bit of a challenge. This would be heavy. This would be slow.

But more than anything: This would be amazing.

In the next one, I’ll tell you all about it.

Fredrika

By |June 11th, 2016|Oceania, Travel Logs|
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Australia Pt. 3 – Cowboys & Choppers

I’ve never really understood this big piece of nothing that people keep referring to. Yes, it’s endless outback. But the most random things always keep breaking up the ‘nothingness’ into ‘somethingness’. You’ll see.

These were the words of Faith, a rolling power woman I met in Malaysia. After having spent months and months along the backroads of Australia, her path crossed mine in a modest hostel on Penang island. She knew the outback she was talking about, probably better than most born Australians ever will.

It’s not like I didn’t believe her then and there. But it’s not until now that I’ve truly taken in the words.

This is me riding through nothing. Along dirt roads that will always, always stretch themselves further than I could ever go. I spend a lot of time looking at birds. Singing. Slowly turning in and out on those long thoughts, you only ever have when without outer impressions for long periods of time.

Then every now and then, somethingness comes along.

Sure. Not very exciting for most people, and therefore not the best example. But after having spent the majority of my still not very long lifetime on the tennis courts around Sweden, this is something for me.

Or at least it was – until LR Bore.

Unexpected things happen while travelling. Some things though, are unexpectedly unexpected. That one thing usually leads to another is a common known fact, and after more than a year of odd travels I consider myself being well aware of this.

Luckily though, life keeps insisting on blowing my socks off.

Expecting the unexpected is generally a good way to go about a lot of things. The mind is limited though, and 2 days of full on cowboy life was definitely not on my list of possible outcomes of following this random sign in search for water.

Imagine a cattle station a la 1.5 million acres and 45 000 cows at mustering season. Then an incredibly friendly bunch of people, with an arsenal of swear words that would make your mother faint. Dress them in cowboy hats and spurs. Feed them endless amounts of beef with every meal. Add a load of dogs, horses, quad and dirt bikes. A helicopter. And lastly, throw in a random Swede who prefers to say Yes rather than No.

Turn on the blender.

Viola!

The nothingness has officially been turned to dust.

Sometimes I struggle to grasp the things I’m actually getting to experience. And don’t have much more to say other than that I am one very, very lucky human being.

Thank you Tess & Cam, Gina, Sam & the rest of you guys for opening up a whole new Australia for me. I will never, ever forget it.

Until next time,

Fredrika

(This post is a preset. I’m currently out riding, hopefully getting close to Alice Springs as this is published.)

By |June 5th, 2016|Oceania, Travel Logs|
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Australia Pt. 2 – Through Nothing to Nowhere

As you get to read this I’m out cycling. Peddling down dusty dirt tracks somewhere in the vast nothingness of the Northern Territory, slowly making my way south towards Australia’s red centre. Far from civilisation. Light years from a functioning wifi connection.

Writing though I’m still back up in Halls Creek, comfortably snuggled up in the couch of my host Shannon and with a router on arm length’s distance. So I figured I might as well make the most of it and set you guys up with a few nuggets from the road up until here.

What it’s like out here? Main keyword would be G o r g e o u s.

Powering through from north to south is best done along the great Stewart Highway reaching the 3 000 km from Darwin to Adelaide. If you want to get there, that is. I really, really don’t. Because however cliché that ‘it’s the journey, not the destination’-thing might be, it is still true.

I’m cycling around the world. If reaching the finish line was my goal, I could have just stayed there to begin with.

First chance I got, I took off for the smaller Victoria Highway. And from there onto the ever smaller – and virtually empty – Buntine Highway. Then I peddled.

Until the sealed road turned to dust.

And I was home.

Australia is big. Just like with China, that is old news. Intellectually knowing that a place is big though, is something completely different from actually setting off to take on the place on a pushbike.

You go, and go. Put in the hours, day in and day out.

You look at the map.


…& then you take one of those classic ‘I’m not moving anyways’-breaks

You see the signs? In between you find what we usually refer to as nothing. With the exception of one single aboriginal community Kalkarindji. A place the size of a thumbnail, with a 400 people population that is – let’s say – not very used to visits from blonde girls on bicycles.


Downtown Kalkarindji

The rest though? All of that nothingness? As always, this is where the magic lies hidden. Leaving Kalkarindji – stocked up on food, human contact and another 20 liter batch of water – I was off. Ready to officially let the games begin.


Oh yeah, don’t let me fool you. Sometimes I do wonder what the heck I’m really doing.

I could have another go at trying to tell you how much I enjoy the golden shimmer of these rides. How the feeling of being so small, but still having the world completely at my feet still makes me shiver from goosebumps. I won’t though. I’ve tried and failed too many times.

However, there is one thing I really want to say before wrapping this one up.

The termites here are God damn wizards.

Cheers!

Fredrika

By |May 31st, 2016|Oceania, Travel Logs|
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Australia Pt. 1 – Love At First Sight

And then suddenly – finally – I was there. On the 7th of May at 5 o’clock in the morning, I found my feet off the airplane and onto the Australian soil. I’ve taken seemingly great leaps forward on this journey before, but this one was undoubtedly the biggest one yet. The first one (apart from those few ferries, of course) not powered by my own force.

In a matter of hours, I’d been soaring though 3 time zones and a distance that usually would take me a couple of months to cover. Effective and convenient. Something my mind ignored completely, and as it constantly kept looping the thought of what – and who – I would and could have found underneath those fluffy clouds, back down on sea level.

A combination of excitement and lack of sleep turned the scene into a bit of a blur. Before I knew it, I’d been stamped into the country, reunited with my boxed up bicycle, and had some quarantine lady half-heartedly examine tyres and mudguards in search of hostile aliens, threatening to take down the entire continent.

‘Welcome to Australia’ she said, giving me a brief look before turning back to her coffee.

With a big dorky smile I gave my thanks in Swedish, and clumsily started pushing my baggage trolley towards the exit signs.

Australia. Continent No 3.

It’s a pleasure to meet you.

–

I couldn’t have wished for a better introduction to this new world I was finding myself in. Greeted by Swedish Zandra and her Aussie husband Tim, I was spoiled ruthless from first moment. There was food. Wonderful company. The comfiest bed I’d been in for as long as I can remember. And perhaps most importantly, there was people willing and able to answer all my stupid questions about everything from twist-off beer bottles to crocodiles.

With both of them being avid cyclists we spent a couple of days cruising around Darwin on two wheels, while I was slowly getting gear and mind ready to take on the outback down south. Through great, and valuable days these troopers got me all settled in while dampening the culture shock to a minimum.

Thank you a million times!

Just before getting all too comfortable, it was time to hit the road. Though I was up for a smooth start along the big Stewart Highway, I was already filled with that good old feeling I’d been craving for so long. The tingly nervousness of someone stepping out of her comfort zone.

Joined by Zandra and Tim I peddled out of town, just as the first sheds of light made their way into the damp Australian morning.

Minutes turned into hours, and to days.

I had still barely gotten started. But perhaps that was the very reason behind the tumult of butterflies in my stomach those first days. That golden anticipation spiced up with a healthy pinch of hesitancy. After months and months of undefined frustrations in Southeast Asia I was getting back out there. Finally reuniting with my one big love. On the verge of once again, immersing myself in full on adventure.

Australia. Continent No 3.

It doesn’t take much to realise that this will ride will be nothing short of amazing.

Guys. Will you join me for this one?

Fredrika

By |May 25th, 2016|Oceania, Travel Logs|
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Singapore. Oh Singapore.

There is rain, and then there is the sky falling down on top of you.

It didn’t matter how hard I squinted my eyes. I still couldn’t see a thing. But I didn’t care. The wet combination of sweat and sunscreen left my eyes burning like an open flame. I didn’t care about that either. With tears and rain streaming down my face, salty and sweet drops seemed to be taking turns in reaching my lips.

It doesn’t happen that often, but sometimes life steps up to give you Oscar-worthy chronology. This was one of those moments.

Less than an hour earlier I had left Malaysia. A country suffering from a historical hot season and drought. Forced to close schools as well as the water supply for whole cities. Then, literally one step across the border – the sky burst. And so did I.

I did have a place to go. But as I’ve told you twice already – I didn’t care. With the rain pounding down on my head and shoulders, I did what I always do. I mounted my bike and started peddling. Along whatever road I was on – I cycled. Fast. Without the intention of getting anywhere – I pushed my pedals. One after another. Harder and harder.

Heart racing. Tears flowing.

I love how my well my body serves me. Doing whatever it can to let me go though with all the madness my mind comes up with. This though, had nothing to do with providing oxygen to muscles or protecting eyes from salt. This was something completely different.

This was emotion.

‘I actually did it. I cycled to fucking Singapore.’

Crying like a baby. Laughing like a mad person. Shouting from the top of my lungs. Peddling. And going nowhere.

Living.

Rain, rain, rain. Big, heavy drops turning roads into rivers. But this wasn’t any rain. This was my entire journey falling down from the sky. The high mountains. The deserts. The people. The fear. Joy. The hardships that only I know of. And the secret gems that I’ll never tell anyone.

Pride, and relief. Utter happiness, and undefined sorrow. Everything, all at once.

Too much for to deal with then and there. So I didn’t.

Instead peddled. Hard and without stopping. I faced the sky to let the rain drops break towards my skin. Still blind. Still halfway to a heart attack. On one hand this was all too much. But it was also just one small thing.

This was a girl – and the simple joy of riding a bicycle.

Life? I love you so, so much.

Fredrika

PS.

Australia. You’re next!

By |May 13th, 2016|Asia, Travel Logs|
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Malaysian Mixtape

Every single country in South East Asia has them. The tourist hot spots. They exist in all imaginable shapes and forms, but tend to have far more in common with each other, than they have with other places within the country they happen to be situated.

Overpriced, westernised varieties of the local cuisine. Souvenir shops stocking pirated Ray Ban Wayfarers and tank tops with the logo of whatever is the national beer brand, printed across the chest. White people (who also come in quite a few different shapes and forms) buying them. Billboard music blasting from every other speaker. And in comparison to the national standard, an extremely high level of English amongst everyone from the fancy hotel directors to the old ladies selling grilled corn on the street.

There is always the good, the bad and the the ugly, and these places surely are no exceptions to that. But even if I had knowledge enough to do so, I don’t think I would spend this post on that anyways. I’m not going to write about the growing economies and improved living standards of the local people. Not about how the mass crowds are slaughtering what once was true natural gems either. And I won’t even touch the ruined eco systems and horrific sex tourism industries.

I’ll just quickly point out that these places are great whenever one’s after a relaxed escape from the rat race back home. But more than that, they are amazing for anyone up for getting a completely messed up, and highly inaccurate impression of any given country.

…

Aaand those were my last thoughts before hopping on the ferry, taking me from Thailand to the island of Langkawi – the #1 tourist destination of Malaysia.

(Not the) WAY TO GO..!

One of those particularly pretty afternoons I arrived at the port, just as immodest as the sentences you just read. Convinced that I had (this part of) the world sort of figured out. I was expecting Malaysia to be different from the rest of Southeast Asia, but wasn’t thinking much about that at the moment. That would come later – in the ‘true’ Malaysia. Not here in Langkawi. This was just another floating tourist trap. And while people, cultures and languages change – they don’t. I know that.

…right?

I had my bike hauled off the roof of the ferry. Got my passport stamped. Let my feet hit the pedals.

And quickly realised two very important things.

1) Fredrika. You know nothing.

2) Oh, oh. You don’t… even know which side of the road to ride on?!?!!

Scheisse.

I’ve spent the last year or so in more or less constant confusion. If it’s not greetings or food manners, it’s bathroom etiquette or the never ending ‘shoes or no shoes’ dilemma. But throwing myself out in a busy one-way harbor traffic, and realise too late that I have no idea where anyone, myself included, is going? That might just take the price. (In theory I could have checked which side of the cars had the steering wheel. In practice I realised that like 2 km to late.)

I have a few photos that make Langkawi look just like these places tend to do.

On some accounts the island is living up to everything you could expect from it. The crowds are there. For sure. What had slipped my mind though was that Malaysia, being a muslim country, would bring in a big add on to the clientele compared to the rest of the region. Langkawi is a paradise not only for the Western backpackers, Chinese families and Southeast Asian travellers. It’s also bringing in people from all over the Arabic world.

And the mix is amazing.

Langkawi is weird and it’s awesome. And definitely one of the best spots ever for some hardcore people watching.

Next to each other on the beach, European girls are covering less skin than their Arabic counterparts are showing. In the same restaurant you’ll have one table eating their rice with a spoon and fork. One using chopsticks. And at another one a family eating the same dish with the hand.

Though however fascinating Langkawi might be, the rule does apply also here. This place is anything but an accurate representation of Malaysia. Although, in a way it is the best one of them all.

Malaysia is all about the mix. There is the muslim majority of ethnic Malays. But also a huge population of native Chinese and Indians. All in the company of a growing number of Bangladeshis and others. Mosques are built next to churches or across the street from Buddhist temples. China Town and Little India are a given part of any proper city.

Languages, cultures and religions are living side by side, going about their own lives without interfering with each others. And bringing together the best of all these different worlds, the selection of food is unlike anything you’ve ever seen.

As has already been decided – I know nothing, and things are rarely as simple as they might seem. But from an outsider’s perspective, the diversity of this place absolutely beautiful.

And so was the cycling.

Out of the 5 I’ve visited, Malaysia is my favorite country in Southeast Asia. I didn’t really expect it, but I’ve fallen in love with this place. But as this is already getting a bit lengthy, I’ll save it to another post to explain why.

Writing this I can barely think. I’m in Mersing, way down south on the east coast. Merely 130 km from Singapore. One big day’s ride from reaching land’s end. The thought of that I’ve actually made it here is a lot at the moment. It’s far from the end for me, but definitely the milestone of a lifetime.

I’m not there yet. But I don’t care.

Already tonight, I’ve decided to be very, very proud of myself.

Talk to you soon.

Fredrika

By |April 30th, 2016|Asia, Travel Logs|
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Thailand Playgrounds

Oh gosh.

White, never-ending beaches. Crystal clear, azure seas. Curries to die for. And some of the most effortless riding a cyclist will ever experience. I’m stating the obvious here, but I’m over the moon about Thailand. In love with everything from its otherworldly natural beauty to the intoxicating warmth of the people calling this place their home.

Physically this was my second ever visit to Thailand. Mentally though, I’d been here a thousand times before. To get myself through those stone cold nights in the Tibetan mountains, this was the place my mind had kept escaping to. Exchanging the freezing sleeping bag with warm sand against my skin. The frozen yak tea in my water bottle with a fresh fruit shake under a shady palm tree. Desperately trying to convince everything from my numb toes to oxygen-craving lungs, that this madness would all be worth it.

‘Suck it up. You’re moving south, God damn it.’

Some of you know how much I love cashing in on the reward of an epic view after a big climb. Thailand was a full month of it. With the country itself being the view, and the year long ride there being the climb leading up to it.

Trust me when I say I’ve been enjoying myself. To a ridiculous amount. Though not without at times catching myself with feeling sort of guilty about it. I started this whole thing wanting to test – and push – my limits. And however tough in the moment, what I value the most from this journey are the times when I’ve truly gotten to do just that.

In Thailand though? Not so much.

Unless you with limits refer to stuff like:

– How many ‘swim & shade’ beach breaks can be squeezed into one afternoon
– How many perfectly ripe, dirt cheap mangos it’s physically possible to down in one meal
– Exactly how little time one can actually spend in the saddle on a day of riding


Relaaax! Because of why not?

Thailand was a gem. And in perfect harmony with the lazy human being the ‘Land of Smiles’ turned me into, I’m not going to give you many more words than that. I did find a lot of stuff in my camera though, and figured a few bits and pieces from it won’t hurt anyone.

If nothing else, just to prove to myself that (in between the swims and pad thais) I actually did a little cycling over there.


M-I-L-E-S-T-O-N-E ! !

With the hot season at it’s peak, temperatures did reach quite impressing numbers and midday breaks from the sun was a given part of any day. I spent a lot of them on the beach, but did from time to time find myself some shade that wasn’t given by a palm tree.


I always love seeing what some random cave exploring can lead up to

From time to time I almost diluted myself into thinking that I was putting in some proper effort on the Thai tarmac. But was generally quickly reminded of reality by passing people who’re actually working hard.


Compare this…


…to THIS.

That somehow seems to be how it works when being a tourist in Thailand. Don’t mind worrying about anything. Whatever is going on, balance will always magically be restored before you know it.

When you’re without a place to sleep – friendly monks will appear, taking you in for the night.

When you’ve obviously had too much sun…

…a humongous downpour will come to cool down your brain.

Thailand just… works.

Which is my number one reason for loving the place. As well as why I felt so happy – almost relieved – to leave it. Thailand truly did it’s job. Providing me with the ultimate holiday from the holiday, and I did love it.

But awesome as it was, enough is enough.

Why this is funny?

Well. Because I’m now officially one of the 350 000 other Swedes leaving their Thailand holidays each and every year. Happy to have come. Even happier getting to leave. I’m basically just joining the choir here:

–

Thank you Thailand, it’s been great.

Now?

I’m ready to get back to work again.

–

See you in Malaysia!

Fredrika

By |April 16th, 2016|Asia, Travel Logs|
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Cambodian Glances

Cambodia. I definitely passed it on my way from Vietnam to Thailand. Rode across the country, east to west. But to say that I travelled the place, that just wouldn’t feel right. My 5 days of riding and a few more spent stationary in Siem Reap was an appetiser. A way too short glimpse of a mesmerising country that I one day simply must go back to.

I saw too little of it. But what I did see, was pretty amazing.

Cambodia has a lot to offer it’s visitors. Bustling markets. Mysterious Khmer temples. Some ridiculously good food. Exciting cycling, though? Not so much. Flat as a pancake, straight, and in all honesty… sooo dull. This is the type of riding you just got to sit down and get done.


Road

– Imagine a bunch of hours (or days) passing –

…


More road

Let’s just leave it at that.

Off road though, this place is quite something.

Getting of the main road in Cambodia can be somewhat of a gamble. The major ones are of decent quality, but take a single turn off it and you could very well end up on some sandy path ready to swallow you whole, bike and all. As always though, it’s when making these turns that the real magic appears.

And speaking of magic – I did visit the ancient city of Angkor. Invaded by tourists, sure. But there is just no denying the fact that the iconic temples ruins of the Khmer empire is and remains absolutely otherworldly.

I only got a glimpse of Cambodia. And now I’m only giving you a glimpse of my time there. But I guess that’s just how life is sometimes. And probably all for the best, why else would we keep wanting to come back for more?

Until next time,

Fredrika

By |March 25th, 2016|Asia, Travel Logs|
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Vietnam & Mr. Military Man


‘No.’

‘Sir, I just…’

‘No.’

‘But what if…’

‘No.’

‘Would you…’

‘NO!’

It was high time to face it – this was a dead end. The stern military officer in front of me didn’t only have the last, he had the only word in the matter. And his decision was as clear as it was final.

Two full days of working some of the worst roads I’ve ever come across had almost taken me the whole way to Cambodia. Completely marinated in sweat and dust, I now had a mere 20 km to the border. And the only way from here was back. Back for a 160 km detour still taking me to that very same border crossing.

Damn it.


With arms folded across his buff chest, the tall officer glared down at me. I looked back at him. All I wanted to do was to flick that stupid military hat off of his disproportionally tiny head.

Sure, the last hours I had been peddling along with this melancholic feeling of leaving too soon. During the last days I had been introduced to a completely different world compared to the loud and chaotic Vietnam I had first entered, and I wasn’t really ready to leave it. I knew that this guy was sort of doing me a favor. But fact remains, I am a cyclist. I hate going back.

Especially when people in uniforms are telling me to do so.

–

Sorry, I’m skipping ahead here. Of course weeks of Vietnam had been leading up to this. Great weeks! A recap of which would look something like… this.




Crossing in from Laos I got a mighty welcome. Central Vietnam bombarded me with limestone mountains, flowing rivers, stunning caves, and picture perfect rice fields as far as the eye could see.


Phong Nha Cave






The beauty of this country is obvious. That was not what really hit me coming in though. With a population more than tenfold that of Laos, the shift in tempo was a given. The lovely friendliness with which I had been welcomed to Laos was just as present all through Vietnam, though the style was completely different. Regardless if it came to children cheering me on from across the street, a lady selling bananas or a car honking before taking over. Everyone and everything here was just – louder.

And it would be impossible to write this post without mentioning them. The motorbikes.

With 40 million registered motorcycles in the country, almost 1 out of 2 Vietnamese people (grandmothers and infants included) have their own motorbike. This is a country on two wheels, a fact which you’ll not only be reminded of while on the road. It’ll wake you up in the morning, keep you company during day, and finally rock you to sleep at night. The sound of 40 million roaring two-stroke engines. The soundtrack of Vietnam.


The coast is where the number of people and tourists (and motorbikes!) skyrocket. With the crowds come everything from heavy traffic to hassling, and all the things I usually try to keep on arm’s length. However, after being landlocked for what literally seemed like forever. I could not not make my way out to the sea.


On top on the Hai Van Pass



Thumbs up!

A brief coastal ride gave me just what I wanted – a few days of epic views and salty hair. Saving my true beach rides for Thailand though, I headed west up the highlands first chance I got.




In some places finding the feeling of going off the beaten path basically just means not riding on the major highway. In other places you have to work for it a little (or a lot) more. Vietnam is one of them. And in search for my very own corner of this quite crowded country, I found just what I was looking for.

My Vietnam.



Possibly the friendliest corn lady in South East Asia


Still unaware of that the path I was on would eventually lead me straight into sensitive military frontier headquarters, I spent a bunch of truly amazing days on the bike. Slow going on bumpy roads, relative solitude, perfect camping and people that don’t expect to see you. All I ever wish for in a ride.

Writing this though I realise that maybe I should also add ‘being caught rambling around inside restricted frontier areas’ to that list. Because that part, simply got me more of all of the above.

If nothing else, I would say an apology is in order. Here it goes.

–

I’m sorry, Mr. Military Man. Sorry for those things I called you inside my head. And for wanting to flick that cap off of yours. Which by the way, is totally of the appropriate size.

And thank you, Mr. Military Man. Thank you for standing your ground. And for sending me back to this.

–






Tailwinds,

Fredrika

By |March 18th, 2016|Asia, Travel Logs|
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Back To Basics

Remember how in my last post, I told you I’d embraced this whole backpacker-ish lifestyle that Laos was providing? Showers. Beds. Fruit shakes. Snappy wifi connections. How I’d decided to simply enjoy it while I still had the chance?

I sort of lied a little bit.

Or at least I didn’t stick to the newfound concept – at all. Basically in the very moment of proclaiming this new mindset, I realised it wasn’t going to work. This weird claustrophibic feeling was creeping up on me in full speed, and I just had to do something about it. And I’m happy I did.

Sure, calling the Laos experience an adventure would definitely be stretching it. In the end however – it was an amazing bike ride. Leaving the capital Vientiane there were no more tourist sites in sight. From there on it was me and the open road.

Finally.

Every day on the bicycle is unique. In opposite to my old working life at home, I can now recall every single day of the last year. I flick through my journal and am instantly thrown back to the hills of Albania, ‘my’ families in Uzbekistan or those instant noodles in the Chinese desert.

But at the same time my days are more the same than ever before in my life. It doesn’t matter if I’m sweating away under my hijab in eastern Iran or freezing my nose off on the Tibetan plateau. I’m cycling. Patiently pushing those pedals, and at times making a turn or two.

The contradiction doesn’t always make sense, but that doesn’t make it any less true.

My last week in Laos was very much like that. Same, same but different. That perfect balance of things always staying interesting, while a constant sense of familiarity gave room for that to-die-for feeling of… flow.

So. Last week in Laos. I thought I’d hit you with a few photos to give you the gist of it.

First off I moved back home.


Newfound camp spot love of mine: Rubber plantations!

I was spoilt to some quite incredible nature.


Limestone mountains. Pretty as could be!

…and people.


The village football team (who totally kicked my butt…)

(Well, this one doesn’t have anything to do with anything. I just didn’t want to be all alone with this absurd uphill. Can’t believe I spent hours of my life on this one. Total trauma!)


Can you see how CRAZY steep this is?!

What do you say. It’s not one with a whole lot of luxuries, at least not if considering luxuries to be those thing-things. One thing is very clear though. This is my way of traveling. And apparently it’ll take a bit more than backpacker Laos to change that.

Actually no. I think it’ll take a lot more.

See you in Vietnam!

Fredrika

By |February 21st, 2016|Asia, Travel Logs|
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