Polar Plunge in August

It took me awhile to get this started, but looking back over the past few weeks, some of the delay makes sense. I started this current adventure on August 7 with the first stop at Acadia National Park in Maine (U.S.). Beautiful park, very reminiscent of places in my Pacific Northwest homeland except lobster instead of salmon everywhere. More on that part of the trip in a future episode. 

This trip started the same week I hung up a big chunk of my higher education career, a decision that was over-deliberated for years before I finally took a step that was more courageous than scouring job boards and submitting applications. I needed to nudge myself with more force. I'm still employed part-time with a mutual understanding that there will be an end date within the upcoming year to that arrangement. I have taught my last class as a full time faculty member -- mixed emotions, but mostly relief -- and convened my last meeting. Higher education LOVES meetings as a way to feel productive. My most boring but most accurate bumper sticker idea is "meetings are not an outcome."  

Of course there were push and pull factors that led to this fairly big decision; I think that's true of most big changes in life. There's new stuff we're excited to pursue and experience, and there's a willingness to leave the old stuff behind. Maybe I'll write more on that in some other part of this site; I've got a lot of musings about higher education. While I haven't second guessed my decision three weeks into this transition, it took me a few weeks to get into a mental groove and start writing about something. 

So, here's some travel stuff:

Skarhamn, Sweden. I was here for 10 days in mid to late August, and apparently this place was bustling just a week or two before I arrived, as Sweden's urban dwellers flock to the coast for a summer holiday, not unlike Manhattanites to the Hamptons or Bostonians to Cape Cod, I guess. But the dog days of summer don't exist this late into actual calendar summer in Skarhamn. A warm day during my stay was high 60s, a typical day was overcast with a lot of wind much of the time. If my dad is reading this, I don't know which direction the wind was coming from.

Before coming here, I thought I spoke pretty good Swedish but it turns out I speak really good Swedish Chef, which is much, much different. Not at all functional when actually traveling in Sweden, so if Sweden is a future travel destination, learn from my mistakes and be mindful of this difference.  

While the weather didn't suggest late summer in a quintessential sense, Swedes' attitudes are a different story. I will forever be impressed with their willingness to jump into the cold sea the same way I might jump into a heated swimming pool. There are docks, jumping platforms and ladders dotted across the coastline for swimming, and as long as the rain wasn't coming at people sideways, they were doing it. By observation, this looked akin to a polar plunge, the kind that friends and siblings dare each other to do. While I hadn't gone in the water, I'm aware of how far north I was, enough to know that this was considered the "north Atlantic" part of the ocean, and that sounded chilly. Here, swimming in the north Atlantic is just a normal late summer activity. Late afternoon, after people presumably got off work and kids were done with school for the day, they would make their way to one of many local public swimming areas to polar plunge swim. 

Dipping your toe in a body of water before jumping in it usually seems like a flimsy delay tactic to me, like we're buying time to hopefully, in a heroic-level instant, become the courageous individual we aspire to be. Other humans were swimming, and I'm also a human, no better nor worse than them, so up the ladder and off the platform I went. Sure, these people live here and are acclimated to cold water, but it couldn't be THAT bad given there were humans at all in the water.

Turns out I AM a worse human. Without question this was the polar plunge I anticipated it would be. From the moment my toes hit the water on entry until the time they left the water on exit, I bet I was in that cold cauldron less than 15 seconds. Meanwhile, an older couple slowly breast stroked around the same water with their heads comfortably looking around like curious sea lions taking in a lovely day, like the water was the most pleasurable temperature possible. Humility is healthy.

Most adults, from what I could tell, just stripped down to their underwear for their swim, as though the idea to take a swim came to them unexpectedly while out on a walk and they improvised. Somehow, kids had swimsuits, like the adults remembered to prepare the kids to swim, but not themselves. Their outer clothes came off as nonchalantly as their entry into the water. I loved the no-nonsense "what's the big deal" vibe of it all. It felt like some sort of shared understanding that this is how we do it in Skarhamn once the tourists have left. Good on you, Skarhamnites. But I'm swimming in my board shorts, only because a wetsuit wasn't available.

The water temp is around 60-65 degrees in August, and the National Center for Cold Water Safety (a real thing) estimates that most people will enter the "danger zone" (e.g., death) in two hours in those temps. I imagine Swedish parents calling out to their children "Sven and Inga, time to get out of the water so you don't die." And then they have a picnic of herring sandwiches. The latter part isn't made up. Herring is everywhere. One of Sweden's largest pickled herring processors was just a few miles away and sadly, it did not offer tours. But I did learn from a self-guided herring tour that herring oil can be separated during processing and was historically and popularly used in lamp oils back in the day. It's still available, even in the world of more pleasant options. Think about that: some consumers of oils, given a suite of flowery and pleasant options to choose from with names like "lavender meadow" and "nature's nectar" are, in fact, choosing herring oil. My how these people adore herring. They eat it fresh. They pickle it to eat throughout winter. They swim in frigid water with it. They fill up their houses with its scent.

Before coming here, I thought I spoke pretty good Swedish but it turns out I speak really good Swedish Chef, which is much, much different. It's not at all functional when actually traveling in Sweden, so if Sweden is a future travel destination, please be mindful of this difference.  
  

Photo: archipelago off the coast near Skarhamn that was SO FUN to explore. Tons of nooks and crannies among the dozens of little islands. At the onset of the trip, the guide humorousky said paddling in a two-person kayak is a good test of a relationship. One couple was zigzagging their way through the ocean and clearly struggling to get into a rhythm. Turns out they were on their honeymoon.

August 2024