It was only 25 degrees in the pool this afternoon, despite it being over 30 degrees on the pavers next to the pool. I don’t think it has been under 25 degrees in the pool since September, which is coincidentally when I started a note titled “Things I've put in my pool” to commentate on the painful and occasionally rewarding tasks that come from being responsible for maintaining a pool.

Now it looks like pool season might be coming to a close, I need to dive back into that list and update it otherwise I might only post two entries this month instead of three.

Things I've put in my pool

Water test strips
Phosphates remover
Gordy (the pool robot)
Bricks (accidentally)
Hydrochloric acid
Cyanuric Acid
Salt
Gordy again
Myself
The wifey
Nash (once, briefly)
Diving rings
Inflatable basketball hoop and inflatable basketballs
Foam basketball
A lot more hydrochloric acid and test strips.
Myself and the wifey a few more times.
Friends
Friend’s children
Gordy (a lot)
More water
The wifey
Myself

Things I've put in my self in my pool

Beer

Henley Beach for Ice-Cream

Park Run (walk), cafes, swimming, sausages.

Onkaparinga Gorge, Somerton, Grange

Bakery, Family, Friends, Reading.

Yes, it was another perfect long weekend of hiking and beach walks, catch ups and coffee, back roads and BBQs...

...Partially ruined by Big Box Hardware and home ownership.

At least the front lawn looks less weedy now.

It was a great weekend. The exact days that winter feels officially over, even though I'm sure there will be cold and rain again soon. Despite the many sights and sun, I didn't take any photos. So I'll recap it with words.

Friday night, date night with Vanessa, Lebanese food in North Adelaide. Mixed grill. Hot chips. A lot of salt and garlic. Very tasty.

Saturday morning I needed a haircut so after dropping Vanessa in town for an appointment I parked at my old barber and then walked back through Croydon to see how the flowers were going on my old walking streets. Okay actually I was going to see if one of my favourite jasmine vines was in bloom yet. There were some blossoms, but not enough warm breeze to carry the pollen to me. I got a coffee on Queen Street and then walked back for a haircut. In the mood for supporting more local businesses so I bought some sausages from a butcher and rolls from the baker - these would feature in lunch and dinner later in the day.

Around sunset we walked on the beach with bare feet before returning home for a BBQ. I slept with only one doona.

This morning the sun was shining and glimmering off puddles from overnight rain. We walked Nash to her new bakery and fed her a weekly treat of sausage roll before returning home under sun-showers.

After washing Nash, we drove north for a father's day lunch and a lot of sunshine coming through the windscreen.

Once back home, I walked around the lake as a huge moon rose into the lavender sky. Then I cooked another BBQ.

Yesterday felt like the first day of Spring, and today felt like the first day of summer.

This morning we climbed to the summit of Meraftafjellet, east of Ålesund. We have done a lot of hiking this trip so far and a lot of inclines but this hike felt like the first time we'd actually climbed a mountain. Just a thin trail to follow through bogs, over boulders, up rocks and between trees. A good challenge, and with amazing views at the top despite the typical Norweigan blue skies and bright sunshine.

After lunch, we walked into the Ålesund old town for the second consecutive day and again we got rained on by the water.

I wanted to like Ålesund a lot more than I did while here. Its colourful, art-deco downtown along the canal gave me Venice vibes but all we got were tourists from cruise ships, kitschy shops, and scaffolding. You know, like Venice. But I didn't feel a vibe. It has everything you'd want in a town. Good panoramas from a nearby mountain or two. Cool buildings. Seaside and mountain views. Nice houses with some awesome backyard trees visible from the road. But something seems missing.

I reflected on this, as I ducked out to the Kiwi Mini Pris for some dessert strawberries, and grey clouds rolled over me again. If I lived in Ålesund, in one of these apartments lining Borgundvegen, what would my life be like and would I enjoy it. (Technically according to my Lyca mobile agreement I do live in Ålesund off Borgundvegen...)

Which of the green spaces would I walk Nash and what pub would I come second at trivia at with friends?

Norway as an advanced society has really rammed home that all humans are the same and they just want to eat hot, salty food and scroll their phones and take the same photos and get home safely. There are lots of great places to live in the world, but the best ones are where your friends, family and dog are at. That's the vibe I've gotten here today. I never got that vibe in Venice. I could have stayed there forever...

And really, is it Ålesund's fault that it stands in a climate not suited for drinking an Aperol Spritz with a slice of orange at any time of the day ? A little bit, I guess, because the city did burn to the ground in 1904 and they rebuilt it where it stood instead of moving it to the Mediterranean. I did enjoy my walks up the various hills, especially after dinner in the low light of evening. It's a city at the centre of an archipelago. If you treat the wide expanse of glacier sheathed waterways all around that reflect the still standing mountains from which the glaciers came, and think of those as canals instead of the lone Ålesundet, you can appreciate its natural beauty. And I did enjoy a beer while wearing just a t-shirt and pants under the heater, behind the double-glazed windows that looked out over the mountains.

Each of these photos was taken in Geiranger, at descending altitudes. A phenomenal geography that I was privileged to spend the past two evenings at.

Norway waterfall fatigue is a real thing. They are everywhere, the equivalent of dead kangaroos on Australian road trips. Even the kitchen tap of every place we've stayed has gushed rapidly by default. But you do see some occasional epic ones which make you pause.

Dalsnibba is the mountain where we stood in the snow, which then melts in spring to create the torrents which carve through rocks to create rivers, which gravity pulls over ledges until eventually the water reaches the fjord, carved by glaciers millions of years ago. Standing on the prow of the ferry that took us and the car from Geiranger to Hellesylt was an incredible experience, an hour of being a tiny human in a canyon of rock. Like the water, we had found our way through meanderings and cascadings to this point.

Rock, water, logs.

There has not been a museum or art gallery in sight on this trip so far. Human history and culture has a place, but after 2023's tour of Roman stones and baby Jesuses, I made a conscious decision to make Norway 2025 a holiday dedicated to nature. This morning I sat on a boulder, eating fruit and nut muesli with yoghurt, watching the sunlight filter over the mountains to light up the fjords. On the drive back to Aurland I briefly shared the road with a tribe of goats.

We then drove from Aurland to Kinsarvik, stopping to eat chicken sandwiches at your average Norweigan rest stop featuring a raging blue river, mountains, waterfalls and trees. Vanessa clambered down to put her feet in the water which I was not brave or motivated enough to do.

The rest of the drive featured many tunnels - one with a roundabout in it - and a cool bridge. We also stopped at Circle K for coffee and a bolle.

Kinsarvik is a small town on a big fjord. We ate an early dinner of more chicken and salad from the local Spar, then drove up the hill to follow a trail along a gushing river.

At the base of a massive waterfall was a power-plant. We followed the pipe up to the top, taking in a second waterfall and even more trees, rocks, and water.

After returning back to the car and hotel, some 20,000 steps stepped and many of them over unstable rocks, we needed more fuel and so we devoured an ice-cream log cake.

WINTER
The Stegastein Viewpoint. 5° air temperature. Sun slowly descending over the cliffs rising up from the Nærøyfjord. Numb fingers trying to spoon fruit and nut muesli into my mouth. Windproof jacket, fingerless gloves, pants, woollen socks.

SPRING
The Flåm Valley so green and saturated that it looks Photoshopped. Walking the route of the railway. Tulips growing on the side of the road. The sun warm on the face, but breeze bringing pollen and a slight chill on the return to the fjord. Shorts, hiking boots, pullover, hat and sunglasses.

SUMMER
Post-nap fresh strawberries and yoghurt on the patio in Aurland. Water shimmering reflecting the clearest of skies. Shorts, tshirt, bare feet on the grass to take in the view.

AUTUMN
What it is at my house. I took this photo of a red tree to round out this post.

In My Ridleyton Era.
In my covid era.
In my mulberry tree era.
My cycling era. My air-fryer era.
My upper limb surgery era.
My no mortgage lifestyle era.
My friends all having kids era.
My fresh baguette from the shops that morning era.
My savvy and not so savvy investing era.
In my meat puffs era. My New Holland Honeyeater era.
My watching Nash grow old era.
My integration architecture era.
In my working and working out from home era.
My local cafe knows me and my dog's order era.
In my noticing how bad the cold is in winter era.
In my driving twenty minutes to the beach nearly every second summer evening era.
Out of my Ridleyton era.