5th of August, part one

The trip to Gotland turned out to be fascinating and interesting for several reasons. Some of the more surprising travel memories were constituted quite incredulously. We started from the house in Svalsta in the wee morning hours, actually quite some time before the Sun even pondered getting up. I wouldn't say I was flabbergasted by the mood in the vehicle, but not far from it, as all were sparkling happily and busy chatting away. Except for the ones snoring, but I think that's only common sense. Anyway, Nynäshamn, where the ship arrived at the break of dawn for boarding. 

The first stop, after landing on the island and having been forced through the mandatory smoking pit-stop, was Lummelunda Grottorna. There are some really famous caves on the west side of Gotland, something the explorer in me just had to see. If you go there, I recommend you bring warm clothes. Temperature outside was about 30 degrees C in the shade. Inside, it's around 8, and you will be there for about an hour. The main part of the caves was discovered by three adventuresome boys who crawled in there as part of a forbidden expedition. They mapped the place to such an extent and detail that the spelunking community took quite some time and convincing before they even considered believing them.

The tour in the mines was exciting and really brought out the child in me. I kept running behind and ahead of the group, squeezing past people with a muffled excuse. Photography in a cave is not really the easiest thing, trust me. I had my 1,4-lens with me, so that I could shoot at extremely high ISO without using a flash, but only when there was some lighting to start with. Then I had my SpeedLight as well, for when there was nothing. One tough thing to do, when shooting in complete darkness, is to focus. I mean, how do you set the focus correctly, when there is nothing to aim at? Well, the flash gives light of course, but only when it flashes, which is when the picture is taken. So going from autofocus to manual and having a good touch can be essential. 

This here little odd formation is something called flowstone. Of course, most of the formations in the cave are formed when water breaks down limestone, carries off small pieces of sediment that are then deposited elsewhere. Many of them gain an almost organic feel to them, like a carapace of an animal previously unknown to science. Penetrating into this dark and surrealistic realm really feeds the imagination and nourishes fantasies and it's not too hard to picture oneself trapped in this subterranean world, in the dark.

This formation here was something that the others in the group missed, just walking by. I couldn't help stopping to snap a picture, lit by a small light far off in the cavern. At this time, I had a hard time not thinking about how my dear travel party started to grind their teeth about the orange flurry thing, darted around in the cave with dampened "xcuse me..." and flashing occasionally (the speedlite, not me).

We did a LOT more this day. We went north, along the coastline to see Jungfrun, the highest rauk. The rauks are the rock formations that Gotland is so famous for. In the middle of an antiquated fishing camp, there was a small store with a vicious and hostile Stockholmer. It seems that during the summer, many youths from Stockholm come to Gotland to work, and they are just not very serviceminded, ranging from indifferent to snooty. And this little girl was no exception. Still, with mom's fumbling attempts to be helpful, the girl had to handle the fact that the cans with plastic utensils were flipped over, turned so that the utensils spilled into the counter, all over the fish. As she stood drying them off with cleansed teeth, mom profusely apologizing, the situation turned darkly humorous when mom did it again, this time tipping them the other way, straight into the trash. Afterwards, it turned out it only served her right - the smoked prawns had a very distinct taste of diesel. In all probability, the owner smoked them in the tailpipe of his truck or fishing boat, or something equally vile. They were, for lack of a better word, vile! Still, Dad and I took it upon ourselves as men to masticate perpetually on them. You pay for it, you eat it. Simple as that! Should have dropped them in the tank of the car, instead.

The most spectacular part of the story, however, was Gutens Bensin and the B&B called Slow Train. I hardly know where to begin. There are not that many places to stay in Fårö and I chose the one I thought would be most memorable. And boy, was I right.
Still, I will have to get back to you on that one, seeing as how I have to do some studying now, and cooking for the family. In order words, keep a sharp lookout for the remainder of the story!