This September, we were lucky to host second-cousin Leif Lidman, who visited from Piteå, Sweden. After 25 hours of travel, he arrived in Seattle around midnight. Early the next morning, we looked out the window and saw him below, taking photographs of our downtown neighborhood. He had only 12 golden days to experience our city and "no time to waste, sleeping." Leif is a veritable powerhouse of energy and enthusiasm - outgoing, friendly and always open to new experiences and ideas. What a guest!

Of special interest to him - the Seattle programs and interactive events, parks and venues designed to showcase the arts. He is the program director for Badhusparken in his town, a park that functions as the living core of Piteå. He schedules all events that occur there, from the big names that travel to perform at their outdoor stage, to folk dancing and storytelling sessions in the round house, to the Saturday morning flea market, to the oversight of the popular hostel, housed in what was the town's oldest hospital. He's an ambitious guy with lots of great ideas.

In the short days that he was with us, we covered a lot of ground. Family, friends and the artists of the Diller Hotel will remember him well. Hats off to Leif, the best ambassador and enthusiast that Piteå has to offer! Thanks for the memories!

Our good friends George Ferrandi and Miguel Luciano recently painted a Barack Obama mural on her building in Brooklyn. This inspired Monika to make a banner we could hang out our window. George emailed her graphic, and Monika got to work. So what are you waiting for?

Photo by Kevin Daniel

Photo by Kevin Daniel

The Fall 2008 Phoebe Literary Journal will include multiple examples of my meeting doodles. Thanks to editor Ethan Edwards for contacting me - the issue looks great.

We took the X2000 fast train from Stockholm back down to Lund, where we relaxed and laughed with Tommy and Maria for the last few days of our epic Swedish journey. There's nothing quite like winding down in a back yard full of singing birds and sunshine.

In just 62 whirlwind days, we had traveled 9,708 miles back and forth from Seattle to Copenhagen and another 3,000 miles while in Sweden. We ate, we drank, we gained weight. We loved every minute of it.

Thank you, all 73 of you, for your part in our happy and memorable adventure:

Tommy, Maria, Per, Nina, Greta, Gerd, Marita, Sven-Ake, Hans, Agnetha, Camilla, John, Niclas, Lina, Marica, Janne, Elin, Ida, Inger, Ulla, Lisbett, Siv, Inger, Ulf, Helene, Bo, Imant, Arla, Bitte, Per, Felicia, Hannes, Iva, Stig, Ewa, Sofia, Sandra, Ann-Mari, Bo, Ann-Sofie, Linnea, Andreas, Leif, Monica, Suzanne, Marie, Barbro, Bengt, Viktor, Johanna, John, Lars, Helena, Julia, Gun, Linda, Elsy, Janne, Eivor, Jenny, Anna, Andreas, Evangelina, Caroline, Hakan, Gosta, Aida, Jenny, Pelle, Ted, Johanna, Magdalena and Klara.

We return home with fond memories of a beautiful land and warm, generous relatives and friends. You opened your hearts and homes to us, and your hospitality will not be forgotten. Have a healthy and happy summer!

-John and Monika

Before leaving Stockholm we had to visit at least one overtly tourist thing. We chose the Absolut Icebar, a bar made entirely out of ice, right down to the glasses. The place is kept at -5°C all year; when you go in, you're given a coat and gloves.

It wasn't long before Monika and I started getting cold, but between the vodka and the fascinating surroundings, we soon forgot the temperature.

Even the walls are made out of ice, and we loved the way the light moved through it.

The next day we headed out to Skeppsholm, where we visited the Moderna Museet, a fantastic contemporary art museum.

To get there, we took a subway line that runs further underground than other lines we had used. All of Stockholm's subway stations have public art in them, but the ambiance of this line was unlike anything we'd ever seen in a public transportation system.

Skeppsholm is an island, like most of Stockholm. Coming up out of the subway, a scenic walk across the Skeppsholm bridge got us to the museum. The boat in the background is the af Chapman, a permanently moored sailing ship that is a youth hostel.

At the end of this fine day, we visited a konditeri for one last bit of fika. As always, the pastries were works of art, and the coffee carried a kick.

Rush hour was on its way to Stockholm, so we hopped another subway train back to the hotel, and packed it up.

Next up, back to Cousin Tommy and Maria in Lund, then home to Seattle!

Heading back to Stockholm's Gamla Stan (Old Town) was a great idea. Monika and I walked up and down just about every little street in this area, stopping into small shops, noticing little details and watching people.

One shop that was incredible was a thrift store in the cellar of a centuries-old building. We descended two flights of granite stairs into the most wonderfully claustrophobic space I have ever seen. I couldn't stand up straight because I kept clocking my head, and we had to navigate the shop walking sideways.

Looking back up the narrow staircase, we were greeted by the shop dog. "He catches all the rats", the cigar-smoking owner informed us.

At the top of Gamla Stan sits the Royal Palace. This structure is massive, and houses museums, royal offices and is used for representative purposes by the royal family.

Around its perimeter are individual guard houses, with a member of the Royal Guard standing watch. At first glance it would seem that these guards are largely ceremonial; after all, the palace is massive. Then I noticed the menacing weapons.

As we stood looking at the enormous facade of the palace, another guard was making the rounds, checking in with each stationary guard. We took him to be a senior officer, although we couldn't figure out what rank his dog was.

At the end of the day, we headed back down the hill to the subway station, snapping pics of Gamla Stan the whole way...

Upon leaving Piteå, we had a choice: we could either drive leisurely and explore as we had on our way up, or head straight down and spend some more time in Stockholm.

We chose to head straight to Stockholm, but the trip back was not without its unique scenery. We stopped alongside the highway several times; plants that were nowhere to be seen just a few weeks ago were suddenly in bloom.

At one point, on an otherwise deserted stretch of highway, we encountered this giant granite sculpture by Claes Hake:

When we reached the Höga Kusten Bridge, where we had stopped on our way north, we decided to give the hotel a try. That was a great idea. Every room boasts a view of the bridge - here was ours:

After a sound sleep, we decided to make a beeline for Uppsala. This would be a full day of driving, so we didn't stop much, unless Monika saw flowers, of course.

We reached Uppsala tired and thirsty, so we checked into a room, and wandered out in search of a beer. Having found a sidewalk cafe, we sat back and took stock of things; our trip to Sweden would be ending soon, and we were having a beautiful time. Monika and I raised our glasses to each other, toasted, and drank. That's when seemingly millions of birds took off from every rooftop in the city and swarmed over us.

Choosing to see this as a good omen for the next day's drive to Stockholm, we slept well.

Returning the rental car was a simple as it could be; all we had to do was take a fast train from the airport into the city, switch to the subway line that went back to our hotel, and that was it.

We had returned to where the blue-eyed crows eat salads. We were back in Stockholm.

Our last day in Piteå was Midsommar, the most important holiday in Sweden. We had the best seat in the house, as Midsommar festivities took place at Badhusparken, where we were staying.

Monika had collected seven different kinds of flowers. Tradition says that putting these under your pillow on Midsommar will make you dream of a loved one.

The customs and rituals performed on this day include the raising of a majstång (maypole), which is decorated with greenery and escorted to its installation point by musicians and dancers in traditional dress. This was a fine day for the children, who were fascinated by the hole that had been dug for the pole.

With great fanfare and dancing, the majstång was lowered into its resting place.

Then came the best part: Sma Grodorna! Everyone, children and adults alike, dances around the pole, imitating a frog. As the lyrics to the song describe all the funny parts of a frog (ears, tail, etc.), everyone imitates a frog. Yeah, I don't quite get it, either, but it was sure fun to watch.

When the ceremony was over, everyone headed home. Monika and I were told that the raucous Midsommar celebrations would go on all night around the country; apparently, on this, the longest day of the year, when the sun barely sets, many people drink themselves silly and eat too much.

We figured this might be a gross exaggeration, but who knows - isn't there always a bit of truth to these things? Here's a great German IKEA ad that parodies Swedish Midsommar; I guess someone in Sweden took exception, as the ad was pulled:

In any event, it was a beautiful day that has been taking place in Sweden for thousands of years, and we loved taking part in it.

Up into the mountains we drove. Leif and his brother Lars were taking us to Storforsen, one of the largest rapids in all of Europe. Aunt Gun came along, as well as Lars' wife Helena and their daughter Julia.

Storforsen is part of the Piteå River, and the rapids themselves are frighteningly forceful, especially when seen close up. Many parts of the trail that runs alongside the water are safely behind fences. At other points there is nothing between you and close to 3000 cubic feet of water per second. It's quite a feeling to stand on a slippery rock, listening to the roar of the water, getting sprayed in the face, and wondering how long a person might expect to live if he fell in...

Just off this main trail, however, things became much quieter and more serene. You could hear yourself think again, the trees were thriving in the mist, and the lichen created beautiful patterns on the rocks.

Storforsen, literally "strong falls", drops about 270 feet over its 3 miles length, and we had explored much of it. So, we sat for a spell and watched Gun expertly slice some reindeer jerky with the Lapp knife she had just helped me buy; she was born and raised in Lappland, and had pronounced it "a good knife". Good enough for me...

A lot of sun, a lot of water, a completely memorable day.

This is our good friend and Monika's relative, Ann-Mari:

And this is Ann-Mari's family:

While gathered one fine day for her grand-daughter Linnea's confirmation, we got to talking about traditional Swedish food; especially those classics from the north: pitepalt and surströmming. We wanted to taste both of these unique dishes but our time in Pitea was running short.

In short order, Ann-Mari had organized everything; she would make the pitepalt, and Cousin Barbro and Bengt would prepare the surströmming.

We arrived at Barbro and Bengt's house on a perfect summer's day, and retired to the patio. The breeze was light, as was the mood.

First came the pitepalt. This dish, which originates in Piteå, is made with grated potatoes, a perfect balance of rye and white flour and salt pork. The ingredients are molded together into a ball roughly the size of a small automobile and gently cooked in water for nearly an hour. Put lingonberries and butter on top, pour yourself a glass of milk, and you're ready.

So, how was it? Absolutely delicious! This is comfort food on a grand scale; a pitepalt meal makes any place seem like home.

We felt fortified, and we would need the courage. Next up was the real challenge: bring on the surströmming!

Surströmming is fermented fish.

Yup, you read that right. Here's how it's made: Herring is placed in barrels of brine for a few months. Then it is packed in cans, where the anaerobic decomposition process continues for up to a year, before being sold.

At this point the pressure inside the can is so great that it bulges; many airlines even prohibit the transport of surströmming as an onboard hazard. To this end, Barbro and Bengt put the can we were to eat inside a plastic bag, as it tends to explode when opened, and you really don't want to get fermented fish juice all over yourself. The aroma is remarkable; this is food best eaten outdoors.

Here's how you eat surströmming. You put chopped raw onions and diced, cooked potatoes on a piece of thin, crispbread. After you've cut open and deboned your fish, you place it on the bread, as well.

So, how does it taste? This is an acquired taste; you either love it or you hate it. Monika braced herself...and loved it! I was, uh, ambivalent. Bengt was prepared for this reaction, however, and suggested we have plenty of aquavit on hand to help things along. My hero...