Every year or so, there’s one article/essay that stands out from everything I come across. This is one such work. It shows the correlation between violence and repressed sexuality, lack of affection towards children, sensory deprivation and various forms of social damage. It’s a long read, but you can also read just parts of it and I’d wager you’ll still be enriched by this amazing work:
You don’t need to be a psychologist to see how all this makes so much sense. A sick society will produce sick individuals.
If you choose to read only one of my weekly recommendations every 6 months, I would beg you to read this one.
And I’ll do one other thing I do as rarely as possible. And that is to passionately ask you to share this with the world! Thank you!
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Finally, thanks to the CLOUD act^ passed earlier this year, American companies have the right to spy for the government of the USA on pretty much anybody that uses American products. The act also indirectly opens the door for other governments that enjoy snooping in their citizens’ private lives. And guess what, major tech companies had no problem turning their back on their customers because (surprise!) the act will save them loads of cash:
It was bound to happen sooner or later. Of course, this is all done with ethics and responsibility at the forefront, in the glorious battle against organized crime. Even if I wasn’t sarcastic, this is, after all, yet another weapon in the USA’s cyberwarfare arsenal^. And the walls protecting our private lives have already started to fall^.
That’s one small step for a nation-state, one giant leap backwards for mankind.
Here’s what the Electronic Frontiers Foundation had to say:
“Because of this failure, U.S. and foreign police will have new mechanisms to seize data across the globe. Because of this failure, your private emails, your online chats, your Facebook, Google, Flickr photos, your Snapchat videos, your private lives online, your moments shared digitally between only those you trust, will be open to foreign law enforcement without a warrant and with few restrictions on using and sharing your information. Because of this failure, U.S. laws will be bypassed on U.S. soil.”
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This belongs to a series of 5 articles dealing with child birth and the medical system in Sweden – from both a man’s perspective but also from a woman’s perspective, thanks to direct input from my wife. The reasons for writing the series are presented on the start/summary page^ where all 5 articles are linked.
Like most parents, I’ll never forget the day when we found out we’re pregnant. Yes, we were pregnant. Throughout this story, I’ll be using several expressions that we’ve coined during my wife’s pregnancy. It was Crina who came up with “we’re pregnant”.
Then, it was me who forged the word withbaby, and you’ll get used to it, because my wife wasn’t pregnant (and this is the last time you’ll read this word here). Crina was withbaby. Language is powerful. Language matters. We don’t use cold, distant words to express giving life to our child.
And if “having been impregnated” sounds too scientific, there are even worse expressions for withbaby in other languages. In our own native Romanian, they call women withbaby “însărcinată”. Ad-litteram, it means “tasked”, as in “having been given a task” (the root is “sarcină”, which means “task”).
On the 21st of May 2016, on Crina’s name day, we found out that we’re withbaby. Men usually start to be called fathers only after the child is born. When Crina learned that she’s withbaby, I already started to think, and talk about myself as a father. The fact that I couldn’t interact much with the baby didn’t make a difference to me. I now see how important that was, because it helped me shift to being a partner for my wife faster than I would have otherwise done.
After my wife confirmed the “yes” result using several pregnancy tests, the first practical thing we had to do was to find a midwife. We went at a nearby state-owned health center and there, we met Erika, who we instantly liked. I thought she had a good approach towards being withbaby: keep your life balance, exercise, don’t lose intimacy, eat healthy. Unfortunately, Erika was quitting, so that was the first and only time we met her there.
Important: In Sweden, everything related to childbirth is free. This includes all routine checkups and treatments, all advice and all appointments. The quality of state-owned health centers is similar to the private ones. In Stockholm, there are a lot of private-owned health centers. They are also paid for by the government, hence the “free-for-all” healthcare. Waiting times to get appointments related to childbirth is usually short (a couple of days).
We wanted to follow our midwife Erika to privately-owned BB Stockholm, but could not get an appointment because she was on extended sick-leave. We therefore transferred to another privately-owned health center called Mamma Mia (with whom we had a rather unpleasant experience about two years ago). They have multiple locations across town, pretty much like their main competitor, BB Stockholm.
Just like the previous time around, our experience with Mamma Mia was rather sour. The midwife was professional and… and that’s it. She was professional. Just like our previous obstetrician appointment there, we were treated like objects on the conveyor belt. I’m exaggerating here in order to highlight the fact that we saw a very clear pattern with Mamma Mia.
The clinic is geared towards getting as much money from the government as possible. They do this by handling as many patients as they can in the shortest possible time. And it shows. Our three appointments there were rushed and lacked any emotion. I am generally a warm and pleasant person and I tried to connect with the midwife but she was like an ice block. We therefore decided to switch to BB Stockholm when my wife was in her 3rd month withbaby.
Important: Needless to say, having a baby is an important event. In order to facilitate a smooth and pleasant journey, it is good to have around you people that you can relate to, people that can give your family not only good quality care but also love. We would have gone through five midwifes if necessary.
Luckily, the 3rd time was a charm in our case. At BB Stockholm we met Solveig, a midwife who was close to retirement age. She was not only very experienced and professional, but also gave us a good feeling every time we went to see her.
Now, a few words about Sweden’s healthcare system. This country has an extremely professional way of documenting everything. In time, this has resulted in a huge amount of data about pretty much any imaginable situation that can occur during childbirth. It’s a two-edged sword, because if you have requests that are outside of their comfort zone (the much-loved procedures), you need to either strongly justify it, or pay the costs by yourself (if the request is even possible).
Such a situation occurred for us because my wife had learned that in our native Romania they perform a special kind of test for something called the Rh factor^. An Rh mismatch^ between mother (if Rh negative) and baby (if Rh positive) can lead to complications. We wanted to have this test done but the obstetrician told us that they will only perform such checks if there are such complications and that she sees no reason to worry yet.
In other words, they were willing to expose us to risk simply because we asked for something that wasn’t in their “to-do list”. What’s worse is that the obstetrician (we were at Mamma Mia at that time) wasn’t even sure if the risk prevention treatment (a shot) for having this blood group mismatch was available in Sweden. We took a leap of faith and left it at that.
Sweden is also totally not crazy about ultrasounds, and with good reason^. In our home country, Romania, they do ultrasounds during almost every checkup and the number of investigatory sessions can go up to more than 10 until birth. In Sweden, they do one (!), and even that one is entirely optional. They recommend two if the woman is older than 35 years old (when the chances for Down syndrome increase). Since Crina was soon turning 34, she was offered two ultrasounds.
During the second ultrasound, we got the impression that the baby wasn’t exactly happy with the procedure (showed signs of agitation). Despite the common view still being that the ultrasound is not harmful, it is invasive. We’re talking here about a high-energy vibration that is used for imaging tissues. The developed human ear can’t pick up ultrasounds, but I am curious about how the hearing range transforms during the development of the ear. In any case, I couldn’t agree more with Sweden on this one.
We didn’t want to know the gender of our child so we asked the examiner to not tell us. We had named our baby WinterKid (since he or she was due in January). To us, the only important thing was that our child is healthy. We also don’t believe in gender stereotypes, so for us preparing for a boy or a girl wasn’t an issue. No bias towards certain toys or colors. The only thing that we couldn’t buy (given that we don’t live in Scotland) was skirts, and that wouldn’t be an issue ‘til long after the child’s birth.
Important: the ultrasound is an invasive procedure. We met midwives in Sweden that were well aware of this fact. Not all doctors are of the same opinion yet, so what I’d like to share is the science behind ultrasound^ and recent discoveries^ about the risks it carries. Ultrasound imaging consists of a high-energy vibration that pierces through tissues in order to produce echoes that the sensor can pick up. We know extremely little about the very fragile mechanisms of cellular development; therefore, it is naturally better to have less interventions.
During our time withbaby, we went on two holidays: Portugal^ and Scotland^. Crina had quite a pleasant time withbaby (her words!). She only had a couple of episodes of morning sickness and was able to do a lot of hiking during both vacations. In Scotland, during the 5th month withbaby, she climbed mount Cairn Gorm^. It’s a medium difficulty hike but I can tell you that all Scots we met were surprised to hear she pulled that one off all by herself (and with a bit of baggage too).
She also managed her diet very well. There are some people that believe that “the mother eats for two”. That’s a dangerous myth^. Please consider replacing that with “the mother should eat twice as healthy”. Years ago, we had switched to eating almost only organic food, but we compromised during holidays and, as the midwives here correctly point out: what’s good for mother is (generally speaking) good for baby. If she had an “unhealthy” craving such as ice-cream, fries, chips or large quantities of biscuits, she would go for it. Although this happened quite rarely, it was perfectly fine because…
One thing all midwives here agree on is the importance of physical exercise during being withbaby. Crina followed this advice well: she went to yoga classes, Pilates, daily walks and exercised at home as well. We know mothers that swim, do weight-lifting and go to the gym.
We loved our time withbaby. We were happier than ever before. I think the reason is not only due to the awareness that a new life had started, but also because of the hormonal changes that undoubtedly affect behavior. And even though women experience the greatest body chemistry changes, some changes occur in the man as well – not sure if due to empathy or to emerging paternal instincts.
We kept a general mood of “we can’t wait to meet you, WinterKid”. And the baby seemed to agree. I could feel movement quite early in his or her development: at the end of the second trimester while we were in a bathtub in Scotland. We both felt that Crina is bearing a cheerful being, eager to meet us, eager to explore the Universe. So, we tried to see the best in the world around us, to greet every day with love in the heart and peace in the mind.
Important: if there is a perfect way to prepare for childbirth, that is living as pleasantly as possible. Of course, there are foods and substances that we know are not good for our health; these are even more dangerous for the fragile growing creature. Still, a woman withbaby who continues her life pretty much as usual is keeping her psyche in a good place, and that, the baby feels. Crina hiked, played, worked, helped me paint a room in our apartment during her 7th month and thus, allowed her body tackle day-to-day life. This generates confidence, and confidence is healthy.
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Time for a look into some amazing engineering. Sweden’s capital is experiencing increasing traffic difficulties due to both its growth and the growth of other cities in the country. This often generates traffic that exceeds the capacity of the current infrastructure.
Major European road E4 currently passes through Stockholm, where it mixes with the local traffic, leading to unpleasant experiences for everybody involved. But come 2026, vehicles traveling the North-South direction close to the capital will benefit from one of the superstructures of the 21st century:
And since I’m talking Stockholm and tunnels, I can also recommend having a look at how the Swedes are rebuilding the second-largest public transport^ hub in the city. They’re digging the entire bus terminal into a mountain^.
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We often gasp at the amount of wealth various entrepreneurs have amassed. News about economic inequality^ (sometimes known as income inequality) is quite common lately, and so it should be. Slowly but surely, society’s patience^ is reaching the breaking point^ and when that happens, chaos^ ensues.
It is hard not to be shocked when confronted with the knowledge^ that the accumulated wealth of 42 individuals (no typo, it really is a two-digit number) is greater than that of the poorest half of the world’s population put together. And then there’s that already outdated statistic about the world’s top 1% owning more than the bottom X% (82% as of 2017 and growing).
Is there a reason to rage when these statistics show up? To many, the answer is an obvious “yes”. Indeed, the disparity is staggering, but fury isn’t usually the right attitude to address a problem. There are many factors that contribute to the present state of affairs and we are directly responsible for some of them. Owning up to this is the first step towards improving things.
As I’ll soon show, there are different kinds of “rich and powerful”. Some of these people are highly beneficial for the progress of our species, while others are destroying lives and wrecking our ecosystem, dragging down society by setting the wrong examples.
The problem isn’t with the rich. If we can even call it a problem, it lies with a society that produces individuals who would do anything to accumulate more wealth, fame and power. When such people do not possess neither the skills nor the opportunity to advance, they start breaking the rules. Eventually, they lose touch with constructive social values while trying to satisfy their insatiable hunger. Empathy and ethics go down the drain so there’s no wonder some of these people act in a completely alien way^. The good news is that it is well within our power to modify the social constructs that are at the root of all this.
Greed and recklessness
Examples about the excesses of the rich are very easy to find. Most of these cases concern an increasingly staggering waste of resources: luxury goods of questionable origin, extravagant properties and a way of life that is severely out of balance with the rest of society. Unfortunately, there are even worse excesses than the material ones, such as the exploitation of other people and, to generalize, disrespecting the ecosystem.
Some of these behaviors are not that difficult to understand because they are driven by instinct. Read this earlier article about the rules of the human game^, which describes how instinct drives a wedge between society’s noble goals and the often-greedy personal needs. Fortunately, we’re a highly adaptable species. It’s up to us to change the rules by which we play with.
Take the worst example of a human being you can think of and realize that the way they acted is, for the most part, a consequence of their education and life experience. We were all born innocent. Genetics plays a role too, of course, but especially when it comes to character and life choices, it is mostly society that shapes individuals.
Philanthropy and inspiration
What many people seem to ignore is the fact that most of the wealthy tycoons are talented administrators and gifted visionaries. They are alchemists of skill and opportunity. Many of them have blasted their way through the hard rock of ages to carve a path through which our civilization can advance.
It is not only scientists and philosophers who deserve credit for our progress. More often than not, having the courage to invest in the dreams of another (even if doing so for the purpose of taking over said dreams when they mature) and having the will power to pour one’s entire life to reach a certain goal are qualities that can produce tremendous benefit for society.
So how exactly do the super-rich help us? There are countless examples of charitable acts that have helped our society, going back to the dawn of recorded history. As our philosophy and social ethics developed, charity evolved into philanthropy^ (read the first paragraphs of the linked article to learn about the difference between the two). The number and influence of philanthropists^ make this into a very powerful social force.
One of the best examples is the Nobel Prize^. It shows how one wealthy man’s donation can ripple through time to create one of the most distinguished and inspiring recognitions of achievement a human can receive. Warren Buffet’s Giving Pledge^ is also worth mentioning as a catalyst for such acts. A less clear-cut example is Bill Gates’ wealth, which led to the creation of a foundation whose modus operandi and purposes are slightly questionable^.
We need people like Elon Musk (as controversial^ as he is) and all the other up-and-coming entrepreneurs. Such individuals always had the potential to find new ways through which we can progress. This does not mean that the abuse and unfairness of some magnates should be tolerated and accepted as the status quo.
This is why we have free press (in most of the world), so that we may find out about and openly condemn people demonstrating an unethical, unconstructive behavior. Hopefully, one day they will realize that they’ve strode away from the honorable path. Yes, these things do exist: honor, ethics and wisdom. You won’t see these words too often in the mainstream media because a sort of hopeless pragmatism has infected many writers. They have either given up on their inner idealist, or are on the payroll of the wrong camp.
The social impact of the rich and famous is very important. They can inspire in both directions: towards the betterment of society or towards the obsessive interest with one’s ego. Again, let’s not forget that we are responsible for growing the powerful people of tomorrow.
A new method is required. And here is where the Internet and social media come into play. Today, we can unite in our thoughts regarding the worldwide changes that we desire. Through direct communication and public appeal, our words will slowly make it to the ears of the people at the top of the pyramid. And instead of beheading them or, worse, scaring them into beheading us, we will pass along a message of friendship and understanding. A message that we can start…
Building together
Many activists are so hooked on this idea of “revolution”. They are strung up on violent upheaval and showing their frustration using the fist and the gun. Some people^ knew this was wrong decades ago^. Have we completely forgotten them? Revolution is not what we need. A revolution implies a return to the status quo, but history must stop repeating itself. This can only be accomplished through evolution.
It’s time to decriminalize “utopia”. We need to cut some slack to the few dreamers who believe we can transform our society into something greater. We need to forgive ourselves for our history and understand, once and for all, that our future is our own choice. Our history is not a song stuck on repeat. Only then, will we see the light at the end of the tunnel and can begin pushing ourselves towards it.
And tell me, what wise leader wouldn’t enjoy knowing that he or she has empowered this species to change its course? It’s true that there are not many wise leaders today. They mirror our society, which in turns mirrors an obsolete industrialized educational system.
The wealthy who abuse power only do so because that’s the only way they know how to cope with their inner struggles or how to derive pleasure from their existence. A significant percentage of the world’s population suffers from a disastrous lack of understanding of what happiness really is (among others: it’s not a destination, but a way of traveling through life).
It is up to us to show what life and this world can be. But we won’t ever succeed if all we do is complain until it gets too much and then violence becomes the last resort. Nothing short of a work of art will suffice. And this work of art is the web of knowledge that is right now being spun by thoughts such as these, or these^ or these^. Countless writers in countless ways^ echo the same verdict: the time for change is near.
The way forward is to spread this knowledge. Because those of us that understand what working together truly means are still in the minority, we must be patient, we must wait for our peers to be interested in the alternatives we come up with. The struggles ahead must be overcome together. This is the next test that evolution has laid in front of us.
Discouraging violent response and encouraging calm and rational discussion (this is not incompatible with going out in the streets and voicing our arguments) is the only way we can write a new chapter in this species’ history, without the stains of blood and xeroxed cemeteries that come with the ravaging tides of war.
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In a surprising move, major American retailer Walmart actually decided to remove from its inventory t-shirts that advocated killing journalists. So apparently the USA hasn’t completely gone astray:
Obviously, I was being sarcastic. The USA has gone completely astray.
By “completely”, I mean the outcome of an election. When a democratic country elects to pursue a certain course, then it is a complete commitment. Yes, there may be opposition, but the overall direction has been set – and in the case of the US of A, I believe that the direction is astray.
By “astray”, I mean that while most of society (world-wide) considers murder to be wrong, the USA has managed to devalue life in such a way that murder can be commercialized with incredibly little public backlash. I believe that the lack of a major social response against the retailers, users and companies that produce such merchandise is due to Americans having been desensitized to violence^.
I can’t describe how sad I am to see beautiful, smiling, presumably honest people, congregate and laugh about murdering journalists, the very profession that is supposed to propagate information.
In the USA, murdering journalists is now considered a funny topic. (c) Reuters.
Well, it’s true that now-a-days most “journalists” distort rather thanpropagate information. Mind the quotes. Those are not really journalists. The true journalist is impartial and just. Unfortunately, ever since the invention of writing, there are those who are not spreaders of truth, but propaganda writers. Crafty wordsmiths that have either chosen or have been fooled into the employ of people whose purpose is to redirect and manipulate (they’re pretty good at fooling others).
Even if the t-shirts would have said “kill all liars”, I still believe that such messages are childish, stuck in an epoch we should move away from. Don’t kill liars; stop producing them^. Don’t kill propaganda; change the message^. Don’t blame manipulators; understand why they exist in the first place^.
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Solar-power uptake^ has been doing very well recently due to falling costs^ in producing it. In any contest, there are events that can seal the victory. In the energy contest between fossil and renewable, I believe that Tesla has won a major battle. And it all happens in the country that is the world’s top exporter of the dirtiest fossil fuel (Australia, coal):
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Minecraft is innocent enough, right? Many tales of wicked deeds sometimes have an unlikely, harmless beginning. Here is one such tale.
Even though it’s about something that happened way back in 2016 (a cyberattack on the DNS network^ that crippled the Internet for a majority of users in North America), this well-written cyberwar article is totally worth sharing in light of recent privacy and security scandals:
For a more in-depth analysis of cyberwar and what it may entail, check my comprehensive article, Daring to Imagine Cyber Warfare^.
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From this high up, the sea is a silky blue, flat surface. I stand on the edge of the abyss. A soft, frigid wind reminds me that the panorama below is, in fact, dangerously close. But what brings out the adrenaline most is the sound of water crashing down the rockface, with no clearly discernible sound of it ever reaching a destination. Directly underneath me, almost a kilometer away, I see the southern shore of Lysefjord. Across the gray sand, scattered wet rocks await the eventual arrival of yet more chunks belonging to the same cliff I’m standing on. I just hope it doesn’t decide to crack now…
I woke up at 4:30, shortly after sunrise, eager to take full advantage of the sunny start of the day, which came as a good omen after two days of almost non-stop rain. My wife Crina and me were in Valle, a small village where we had decided to pause our exploration of Norway on account of the bad weather. We hit the road at 5:30, with the destination Øygardstølen, a parking, restaurant and tourist information center. From there, our intention was to climb the Kjerag mountain. We wanted to see, and stand upon the famous Kjeragbolten, a 5-cubic-meter boulder wedged in the mountain’s crevasse.
The sun was already well-above the horizon at 6 o’clock in the morning.
We needed to drive roughly 80 kilometers, most of these on a road that is closed six months of the year due to snow (today was the 1st of June). Traffic was light, to say the least. During the first hour of driving, we met a grand total of around three other cars. The first kilometers went fast, as the road had one lane per direction and I pushed the speed limits a bit. Things changed very soon though. The road narrowed when we started towards Lysebotn, the small village located at the base of Kjerag mountain, at the end of the Lysefjord. Two cars could barely fit on the strip of asphalt, but every now and then the road would widen up for a couple of meters to allow larger vehicles to pass each other.
Despite the road’s top elevation being around 900 meters, the vegetation and landscape were speaking loud and clear about the long Northern winter.
One of the advantages of having an early start is that we weren’t exactly disturbing the traffic, so we could stop to take pictures whenever we wanted. Other than the road and the electricity transport network seen not far away from it, there were no signs of human activity for dozens of kilometers.
There are some hydroelectric dams around here.
A few dwellings started to show up – cottages with earthy roofs, allowing moss and grass to flourish upon them. At one point, we went through a small village where all the buildings made use of this type of roofing. Later on, a low-altitude cloud worried me that, despite the clear sky forecast, we might have another rainy day on our hands.
The cloud was moving fast, like an army of ghosts, barely a dozen meters above the lake.
There was more and more snow as we were approaching our destination. At times, the road was going through small valleys, sinking into neatly cut layers of snow more than a meter high. As I noticed during one photo break, the snow was all iced up and hard as rock.
Man-built formations of rock point the way to… where?
Throughout the two-hour trip, the barren and lonely mountain range gave us a feeling of exploring an alien planet. While traversing this landscape we came across a large, dark-gray dam, seemingly made up only of crushed rock shards. It looked like a mega-structure left behind by a long-gone civilization.
It’s part of a series of 7 hydroelectric power plants, producing a total of 6183 GWh. Copyright Inger Annevik.
At around 7:30, we arrived at Øygardstølen. There was but a single other vehicle in the parking lot, a trailer whose occupants were, like us, preparing for the climb. We paid for the parking and took a quick look at the tourist information panel regarding the upcoming journey. I hadn’t documented myself too thoroughly about this hike, but I reassured my wife that the path is relatively easy; she will be fine with her running shoes and I’ll be fine with my city shoes.
A 5-hour trip & return adventure awaited.
The weather was clear and sunny, around 4 Celsius. We dressed warm, took our jackets on, packed some water and energy snacks alongside the small tripod that we intended to use to take a photo of ourselves standing atop Kjeragbolten, and off we went!
Impressive panorama after just 5 minutes.
You know you’re in for some jaw-dropping views when, barely a few steps into your hike your eyes are already popping out and you’re finding it hard to put the camera away. You also know you probably underestimated the difficulty of the journey when your shoe slips for the first time because of the slope, which is what happened to my wife barely ten minutes into the trip. But I reassured her this is a simple hike.
This was the first time we could gauge the depth of the fjord. Down there you can see the Lyseelvi river.
We were soon high enough to see down to the bottom of the valley that, somewhere further on, would become the fjord. We couldn’t see the fjord’s water nor village of Lysebotn from where, later on, we were supposed to board a ferry. Silver sparks were coming from the Lyseelvi river, which flows into the fjord’s salty waters after passing through Lysebotn.
One would be forgiven to think that there’s just a shallow valley between these two rockfaces. In fact, there’s a 700-meter-and-growing deep abyss there.
Crina’s shoe slipped again. Fortunately, her balance is good so she was only slipping, not falling. She started to exhibit a certain frustration at my estimations regarding the hike’s difficulty. As we were climbing, the slope had increased enough to warrant the apparition of supportive chains, threaded through thick metal rods firmly drilled into the rock. I assured my wife that this is probably the only really difficult part. And then she slipped again.
That small dark blue car is our brave Toyota Yaris. It saw a lot of Europe in the past 3 years.
We briefly considered going back, but decided to continue, as I was still convinced things were going to get easier. I was the first to reach what I thought and hoped was the top of the “difficult climb”, only to see yet more thick metal chains and rods, accompanied by the same merciless slope. In places, it was perhaps more than 45 degrees; that’s half of going straight up (90 degrees). When Crina saw what I saw, she was not happy. I have a picture of her priceless expression while pointing ahead, but I don’t think she’d appreciate sharing it publicly.
Going down.
Needless to say, the physical exercise got us to gradually shed our warm clothes. Finally, we reached the top and the path was much easier. We were overtaken by a couple we had previously met down in the parking lot. I was surprised it took the two fit Germans so long to catch up to poor panting us.
Across the first valley.
I asked them if the rest of the hike will be as difficult. Crina didn’t like their answers. To be honest, I wasn’t exactly thrilled either. Apparently, we had barely covered about a quarter of the difficult portion (which I would have already known had I more carefully examined the description of the hike). We were now about to descend towards the first of two valleys that separated us from the Kjerag plateau. This meant that we had two climbs left.
A tiny lake.
The two Germans also mentioned a rather difficult snowy portion somewhere. We looked at their shoes. They had a solid pair of climbing boots, equipped with metal inserts as well. We had the equivalent of beach sandals given the task at hand. But I guess that made us all the more badass, or just plain nuts. We forged ahead.
There’s water somewhere down there.
Amazing landscapes continued to get our feet moving after every frustrated outburst of Crina’s. Eventually we both wised up and stopped complaining. We focused on our footsteps, became friends with the mountain and gave it our respect and attention. I believe this mindset is sometimes more important than the equipment one wears.
The other rockface is less than a kilometer away. It’s closer than the fjord is deep.
And it is exactly this mindset that got us through the first of two extremely dangerous and discouraging portions (given our shoes). We had reached a steep climb where the path was covered by hardened, ice-snow. There was a sliver of rock exposed on the side, but it wasn’t a good path to climb on. And guess what: no supportive chains to help a tourist out. In the snow, we could make out several sets of climbing boots footprints. I started climbing and for the first time, my shoe slipped. Losing balance here would have probably meant falling over Crina and crashing down at least a hundred meters over steep, sharp rocks. We were this close to giving up and turning back. But we didn’t.
It looks so harmless, isn’t it? But this was near one of the hardest portions of the entire hike.
After a short snack, one more valley and one more climb followed. Here, we came to the second mind-breaking moment of our journey. It waited for us at the end of a section where the path took us through an almost vertical climb, attacking a heavily eroded wall. The metal chain was jumping from one smashed rockface to the next, as if put there by some sadistic architect. We were almost at the top. The third climb was almost over. However, all of a sudden, our vital support for climbing, the omnipresent chain was… gone. We were left to struggle with a 30 to 40 degrees slope having no support whatsoever.
It’s steeper than it looks.
By now, we had been overtaken by several other groups. There were a few other well-equipped tourists in the area. They were all taking different paths to the top, which confused us even more. But what was definitely mind-breaking was also decidedly not soul-breaking. We advanced, slowly but surely, sometimes walking, sometimes crawling. Behind us was a deadly fall. Only a few other times in my life I felt so close to death and I only remember one other time now: when I was on the fifth floor of an old building during a rather serious earthquake.
Reward!
We felt emotionally and physically drained by this last portion. At least the emotional batteries were quickly recharged when, after a few more steps, we enjoyed our first glimpse of the majestic fjord.
The Kjerag plateau.
One thought was barking and gnawing at my foot somewhere in the back of my mind. We don’t have parachutes, so doing BASE jumping from Kjerag down to Lysebotn wasn’t an option: we were going to have to come back the same way. I just hoped it would be easier on the return trip.
Brave shoes, happy feet and satisfied travelers.
We traversed the Kjerag plateau feeling like we’ve just taken over the world. And in a way, we had. After all, the world belongs to those who see it.
The way.
Due to the increased wind and decreased physical effort, we had to get dressed again while traversing the plateau. It took another thirty minutes to reach Kjeragbolten, but when we did… gosh were we mind-blown.
Welcome to Kjeragbolten. Oh, wait, you don’t see it? It’s right there. You’ll realize where, soon.
The view of the fjord was and still is one of the most amazing landscapes I’ve ever seen. No, let me take that back. It is THE most amazing sight I’ve ever seen. 7 years and plenty of traveling later, it still hasn’t been dethroned.
I can assure you there are waves down there, but they’re kinda’ hard to make out from 980 meters above sea level.
Then, I have my first look at Kjeragbolten, the massive boulder stuck in the mountain’s crevasse. It’s looking back at me behind thousands of years spent wedged between the two rock walls. It seems to say it doesn’t like people stepping on it and it’s dead-serious. I approach the edge to assess the situation. Fear says “hi”. I can’t see any easy way to board the boulder. The only path is a very and I do mean very narrow indentation in the rockface, where one could only put one foot at a time in order to slowly turn the corner towards the boulder. Finally, one would have to take a rather large step to get onto Kjeragbolten.
Totally not as easy as it looks.
There were about ten other tourists relaxing and taking in the view, close to the edge of the cliff. Some people were looking towards me. I assumed that everybody had already climbed onto the boulder, but I just couldn’t muster the courage to do it. I went back to Crina who was busy shooting the hell out of the panorama. For as long as I’ve known her, she has had fear of heights, with fluctuating intensity. She seemed to be doing quite well here though. We approached the edge of the cliff and looked at the sea below. A small mountain stream of snowmelt was flowing down the crevasse, never to be heard of again. Just like a wrong step on Kjeragbolten could become.
The insanity is easier to grasp in this picture by Klaus Brandstaetter, taken in 2009, two years prior to our visit.
However, up to 2016, nobody had been recorded^ to have died due to falling from the boulder. Around ten people died when doing BASE jumping from the same mountain. I walked back to Kjeragbolten, determined to stand on it. This time, I stepped onto the ledge leading to it. As I was turning the corner towards the boulder, I realized that the rock beneath my feet is smoother than usual for this mountain. A couple of centimeters away from the sole of my shoe was a kilometer-deep drop. But alas, after one more step I was face-2-face with one of the most fearsome rocks on Earth. And again, I went back. The combination of gentle crispy wind and water rolling off the cliff was telling my animal brain that this is not where I should be right now.
Seeing this underneath you isn’t exactly encouraging for the primal/instinctual part of the brain.
But then I remembered one of my all-time favorite quotes.
“I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.”
– Frank Herbert (Dune)
If it wasn’t for the deadly fall beneath, I could have probably stepped onto Kjeragbolten with my eyes closed while tipsy. It really isn’t a difficult move to execute, physically-speaking. It’s the psychological aspect that gets you. But the fact that we had just been through a grueling 3-and-a-half-hour climb, littered with risky moments, got me in the right state of mind.
Sitting on Kjeragbolten feels a lot less safe than standing.
I took off my backpack, told a tourist that if I die Crina gets the food and went straight for it. I turned the corner and without a second thought, stepped onto Kjeragbolten. My brain was going “are you mad?” but my body felt safe and sure of itself. I had that exact feeling of being very close to death, just like a couple of other times in my life. It’s an interesting sensation. It punctuates life, puts things into perspective. I stood on Kjeragbolten for a couple of minutes while Crina took some shots. To my surprise, other tourists were also taking pictures. When I returned I found that actually less than half of them had actually dared to make the large step (not even a jump). To encourage Crina, I went again, and this time I sat on it. She went to have a look as well, and returned with a rather pale face. A group of tourists arrived; one of them went there but turned around quickly, another climbed on the rock using the risky method of sitting and using his hands. Then, I went for a third time, to make a video and take some pictures from there.
Kjeragbolten from further away.
We befriended a couple of Dutch tourists. She was very afraid to make the step and asked me how come I went for it three times. I explained exactly what I realized: that once you quiet the primal part of the brain, it’s all very easy. The boulder had been there for thousands of years probably. It endured all the fury of the elements during all this time. It’s not like it’s going to crack in two because some skeletons step on it.
The BASE jumping location.
I was still explaining when, to my absolute amazement, I saw Crina head towards Kjeragbolten. Wasn’t she afraid of heights? Yes, she was, but nonetheless, she turned the corner towards the boulder and took the most dangerous way of getting on it: sitting down and going hands first. To me, that felt extremely unsafe and risky. Humans aren’t used to move with their hands. I asked our newly found Dutch friend to grab the camera from my backpack and then waited behind her with my heart pumping wildly.
Hello from Norway!
And there we were. The two ill-equipped husband and wife, standing, respectfully, upon the fascinating Kjeragbolten. My right foot was on a rather angled part of the boulder, but the stone was rugged, so I felt quite safe. Our Dutch friends, as well as a few others, took pictures of us. It was an exhilarating experience to be there alongside my wife. I was and still am so proud of her for defeating her fear of heights in such a magnificent way. Actually, to me, her fear of heights died that day, or at least became nothing more than an occasional mood to be removed anytime is needed.
Crevasse.
When we returned, the Dutch couple was debating intensely. Before we knew it, they went for the boulder and… Kjeragbolten felt the second couple stand on it during the same day. It was lovely. Frankly, I think that turning that tricky corner towards the boulder is riskier than taking the actual step onto it (due to the smooth rock of the ledge).
Waterfall.
The way back was surprisingly easy. We had no major issues even with the two previously very risky areas. The only problem was that my shoe was a bit sweaty inside and this sometimes made my foot unstable. I warned Crina that, because we were quite tired, the potential for mistakes increases and that we should be extra careful going down. That, we were, and we made it safely back to Øygardstølen. And yes, I carried the tripod all the way for no use at all.
Lysefjord, ground zero. Or should I say water zero.
Lysebotn was a short drive away, on a very abrupt road featuring many tight curves. Down at the ferry, we met our Dutch friends again and talked while we were waiting for the boat. The price was rather outrageous (roughly 80 Euro for a 2-hour trip), but we weren’t about to swim to Forsand^.
Our brave little car.
Just as the ferryboat was leaving, a helicopter landed on a helipad. In the ship’s speakers we heard the guide announcing that the BASE jumping season had just begun. So, for our 80 Euro ticket, we could at least hear a thing or two about the fjord as we were traversing the 42 kilometers to Forsand.
Kjeragbolten from below.
Soon after departure, we experienced the view of Kjeragbolten from below. Just a few hours ago, we had been standing there. There aren’t many days in my life when I traveled (let alone experience) as much as on this day. The sight of the boulder from below is somewhat even more improbable than being next to it. A tiny crumble of rock, caught between two walls, just as it was about to roll toward the sea who knows how long ago? Or? What if some smart ancient Norwegians rolled it into place, foreseeing the profits that it’ll generate from tourism?
Fjord exploration.
We saw plenty of waterfalls while the ferry was making its way towards Forsand where our plan was to go to another camping. After having been lucky with excellent weather all through the day, now, the skies darkened.
Check out the wildlife.
These were the first wild seals I ever saw, a reward for enduring the wind and increasingly cold weather outside, especially on the ferry’s deck. Most of the tourists had went inside and were only coming when the guide announced something important.
Spray!
Among the important things was this splendid waterfall. The boat came close enough to it for us to feel the water spray. There was also a rather boring cave that they said had some connection to some pirates in the past. We also saw Preikestolen^ from below, which is more famous than Kjeragbolten^. Our plan was to go there the next day, but the upcoming rain and clouds dashed that future.
The famous Preikestolen.
Soon, the ferry floated below the Lysefjord bridge, signaling the end of our trip. We reached a nice camping by the sea soon enough. It was raining again so we didn’t bother to install our large tent for just one night. We slept in a rather smelly rented trailer that belonged to the camping. Given how tired we were, we could have slept anywhere. They probably could’ve bombed the coast and we still wouldn’t have woken up. The trailer was overpriced, just like everything else around here. So, a word of warning: purchase food in shops and try to cook it yourself. I think Norway is a country to be enjoyed from a motorhome.
Rain.
There is no other place on Earth about which I can say I’m sure to return to more than about Norway. We only spent a handful of days there, and most of them in Oslo. But it was enough to understand that we barely scratched the surface of what this amazing country has to offer. With its dramatic coastlines and pristine nature, this land is a global must-see destination.
Norway, we shall meet again!
Most pictures made by Crina^, unless otherwise stated.
The reason this soundtrack is here at the bottom (supposedly after the reader finished the text) is because one can’t really focus on music anyway while reading a new text. Hopefully the story was entertaining enough to ask for a second read, this time with some music in the background.
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Here’s the latest about the unethical involvement of animals in the puerile affairs of Homo sapiens. France is training eagles to attack terrorist drones. The idea of training animals for the purpose of taking out enemy military hardware isn’t new. Military dolphins^ were around since last century. At least there are some arguably ethical uses for dolphins, such as finding people lost at sea. France seems to think that the eye-sight of eagles is perfect for spotting and taking out “terrorist robots”:
This will only lead to “the terrorists” creating more dangerous drones (perhaps those that can shoot back), or simply to make them look different. I’m guessing humans can outsmart eagles in camouflage. Even if a nation-state manages to deploy “eagle squads” in every major city, available 24/7, it is still unlikely that much can be done against a well-organized drone attack.
I’d be more concerned regarding a drone-war between nation-states rather than terrorist drones. Nation-states can easily build more drones than France can train eagles, unless everybody starts having a pet eagle (perhaps that’s the plan?). I wonder what happens when one of those eagles confuses somebody’s beret for a drone…
It’s all just another case of senseless exploitation of another species. Just another pointless experiment wasting tax-payer money. It’s not even ground-breaking since training attack birds isn’t exactly a new thing. Sure, these eagles have a better life than creatures involved in intensive animal farming^, but really, can’t they build drones to fight drones? And yes, I think PETA^ are too soft :). But I wouldn’t go as far as calling myself an ALF^.
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Because being informed is just not enough anymore…
