I quasi grew up with Swedish friends. Pippi Langstrumpf and Michel from Lönneberga, both from the Swedish author Astrid Lindgren, were part of my nursery. Michel was my hero. Later, Köttbullar with lingonberry jam from IKEA became one of my culinary heroes. I travelled to Stockholm which is a midsummernight‘s dream of me, in December 2015. The city was festively illuminated and I decided that with its may rivers and bridges and stately houses, it’s one of the most beautiful cities in Europe. I discovered a fantastic waterside museum, entirely dedicated to my second passion, photography: Fotografiska. And I discovered that I could eat Köttbullar every day for two weeks in a row.

I love the concept of „Allemannsrätt“ which means that one may roam and even temporaryily camp on private lands provided one keeps at least 70m distance to the closest dwelling. From Stockholm I roved through Sweden to Lapland. There, with less than two people on one square kilometer, 70 meters were never an issue. Winter as it was, and with just 5 hours of incredible light during the day, I preferred glamping instead of camping, in one of the most unique hotels I ever stayed. In a damn cold night the auroras were shining.