Arrived in Stockholm at 7:00 a.m. on a glorious, sunny morning. Was tired as I slept poorly in an environment not conducive to peaceful rest. The ferry was crowded, noisy and unbearably hot. I spent much of the evening on deck watching the water, and probably slept less than an hour.

Stockholm was much the same as I remember, one of the most beautiful cities in the world. The only immediate changes I noticed were the proliferation of bicycles and McDonald's restaurants. I soon found the bike paths to be more dangerous than the roads, as everyone seemed in a rush. It is disconcerting to have someone silently whiz by you at 25 mph. The city was very quiet when I arrived, with almost no car traffic, and seemed like a sleepy village.

I did a tour of Gamla Stan (the old section of Stockholm), something I'd never really done when I lived here, and was not impressed. Twenty years ago this had been the poorest section of Stockholm (many residents did not even have running water) but it had now been yuppified and was filled with expensive specialty shops. I also went to a couple of my old haunts, the library and the school where I studied Swedish. Then I went to the house that Marlene lived when I met her (Djurgårdslätten 2). It was quite impressive, located as it is in one of the most expensive areas of Stockholm. It was in a quiet area of large houses and faced a park, and across the street, the zoo. A couple of doors down was Handarbetets Vänner, Marlene's old school. It was exactly as I remembered it 20 years ago, even down to the dyed yarn displays in the window.

All of this nostalgic touring soon filled me with an overwhelming sense of sadness and remorse. The summer of 1971 was filled with the intoxication of new love in an exotic setting, and so is precious in my memories. Those may very well have been the happiest days of my life. Now, by contrast, I suddenly feel utterly alone, and filled with pain not only about Marlene, but about Olivia, Sook and even Deb. I have not done well toward the women who loved me.

Part of the purpose of this trip has been to detach myself from women. I wanted to escape the suffocation of the relationships I had, and to further escape the need for women in my life. Notwithstanding London, I have been fairly successful to this point. I feel no great sexual compulsion of the sort that has directed by life the past few years. My sexual desire is at the lowest point it has ever been in my life. And, until today, I had been at peace with the decisions I have made. Today, I only feel loneliness and depression.

I mailed my journal to Don and Kay today, but instead of feeling a sense of relief, I feel a sense of loss. This journal has become extremely important to me. In my solitude, it is the way I maintain contact with the world.

I am camping in a clump of trees on Djurholmen Island tonight. I checked out a youth hostel, but was unwilling to shell out 95Skr ($20) for a bunk bed in a crowded dorm.

50 km around Stockholm and north to Solletuna, where I am camping in a churchyard.

Awoke at 6:00 but lay in my sleeping bag until 8:00. Feeling refreshed and much less depressed. Another bright sunny and beautiful day. I took a tour around Djurholmen Island, which is a giant park (located within minutes of central Stockholm) filled with deer and rabbits. The entire island is criss-crossed with wonderful bike paths. I then rode back into the city and treated myself to a McDonalds (small hamburger and fries--no drink--for 24 SKr). It's pretty bad when going to McDonalds seems like a real luxury, but that's the low budget life in Sweden. I'm getting a bit tired of bread and cheese and I think I've finally overdosed on vanilla cookies.

Called my second cousin Gunilla several times but got no answer. Since Upplands-Väsby (her home) is on the bike route I decided to leisurely ride on up there. The route was through the northern suburbs, mainly on bike paths and empty roads. It wound its way through numerous parks and beach areas. It was a real pleasant jaunt, highlighted by lots of topless sunbathers on the beaches. I enjoyed watching a group of kids playing American football in one of the parks. They were coached by a black American. About 8 km from Gunilla's, I called again and her son answered. She is away at their summer home for a week, and since I got no invitation from her son, I turned around to make my way back to Stockholm. Oh well.

The Stockholm suburbs generally consist of apartment complexes centered around a Tunnelbana (subway) station. The stations all have a complete indoor shopping complex with post offices and libraries, as well as social service offices. Situated all around the large apartment buildings are parks--lots of trees and greenery. As you get further from the city the complexes are smaller, and there are many townhouse apartments and individual homes.

On the way back into town I talked to some people about Allmän's Rätt and asked if they could recommend anyplace in Stockholm. They immediately mentioned Djurholmen Island, so I guess I made the right choice.

Stockholm is the first place I've been to where I can walk the streets with Burton and be ignored. Even in London people tended to stare at me. It is also nice to see some racial mixture here (the first I've seen in Scandinavia). Ethnic diversity seems to give life and vitality to a city, unless you have ghettoization. The other ethnic groups in Stockholm are probably too small to lead to that. I've seen a lot of Arabs, a few blacks and a few orientals. I saw a Swedish/Japanese couple that was communicating in English, and I thought about Jung Sook and me. .

I'm still feeling a vague sense of uneasiness. Sweden is extremely comfortable to me, despite my omnipresent problem with money, and I will be leaving it soon for the more hostile environs of Eastern Europe. On the other hand, I will be able to camp there at campsites, so I should be having more contact with people. The biggest problem with Scandinavia is that free camping can be a lonely experience.

148 km to a forest spot west of Tystberga.

Woke early and started cycling at 4:30 as I wanted to go through Stockholm at dawn. The 50 km of cycling through the city and its suburbs was superb. It consisted almost entirely of well marked bike paths, and I had no contact with cars the entire way. I congratulate the Swedes on their ingenious bike route system. At the suburb of Skarholmen I stopped at the Tunnelbana and treated myself to a McDonald's breakfast. While waiting for the restaurant to open, I happened across a map of Skärholmen, and spotted on it a street that I recognized--Petersbergsvägen. This was the street where Marlene and I had lived 20 years ago, so I decided to bike the 4 km to it.

When I arrived at our old place (Petersbergsvägen 96) I was stunned at how idyllic it was. The last house on a dead end street, it was located on a lovely lake and was next to a densely forested area. The house was surrounded by flowers, thick bushes and trees. The view from our second story window was of the lake and forest. I felt like I was in the serenity of an isolated wilderness--and this, only five miles from central Stockholm! How did we ever manage to find such a wonderful place--I was on welfare and Marlene had limited funds at the time.

After I got out of the Stockholm area I encountered a strong headwind on a long stretch of farmland. The road was narrow with lots of Sunday traffic, and so it was very difficult riding. As is often the case in farm areas, I had a hard time finding places to stop and relax. When I finally did, at Trosa, I stopped at a churchyard and was immediately attacked by a new Scandinavian insect nemesis--biting ants! I will always remember the insects of Scandinavia.

I also had a difficult time finding a suitable campsite, but finally found a small patch of forest and was able to set up my tent. I then ate my beans and potato chips (it is amazing how wonderful a cold can of beans can taste!) and immediately fell asleep without even opening my sleeping bag. I think I am feeling the effects of prolonged lack of sleep, caused primarily by the lack of darkness.

Awoke at 1:00 a.m. and experienced a moment of ecstasy while eating an orange in the calm and darkness. I am writing this (at 1:00 a.m.) by flashlight, although it is not completely dark. This is the first time I have used the flashlight in weeks.

115 km to a freshly cut field 2 km west of Hävla.

Another clear sunny day. Calm for the first hour before very strong westerly (head) winds kicked up. It was very difficult riding due to the headwinds, so I took my time and spent the entire afternoon in Katrineholm, a town of 20,000. There were some very nice, empty forest roads today, but most of the land was flat and cultivated with wheat. This is the most difficult kind of terrain when there is a headwind.

Katrineholm is an industrial town (wood products) and had a surprising multi-ethnic feel to it. I saw several blacks, North Africans and Vietnamese. I spent a couple of hours at the library gathering information on Eastern Europe. I am somewhat frustrated by this as even the most recent guidebooks are outdated by the fast pace of events there. I've been mulling over several options on how to proceed in Eastern Europe. The more I read about Poland, the less I want to spend an extensive period of time there, so I will probably jettison my plans to go to Warsaw.

I bought some shampoo today and washed my hair for the first time in 4 days. I haven't had a real bath in much longer than that. It doesn't seem to be necessary, as I don't feel particularly grimy so long as I wash my hands, face and crotch regularly. Maybe Jon's theory on this has some merit (he says that it is less important to wash your body than wash your clothing while on a cycle tour). I had thought, as had been my experience on previous tours, that a daily "bath" would be necessary for comfort. Of course, my acceptance of my griminess may be a result of a general loss of energy (caused by poor diet) and the endless battle with insects. Ever since I got to Finland, bathing has taken a lower and lower priority.

I have been finding it easier to keep under $25 a day on my food budget by looking for sale items at the Konsum stores. Outdated items are invariably marked down there, which is a testament to Swedish efficiency. Also, prices outside the cities and touristed areas are lower.

My crank has been working itself loose with regularity lately. This requires me to remove it (a difficult process) and replace the tape on the axle. It also seems to be getting out of round and has developed an irritating click in the drive train as a result. I may need to get a new crank in Berlin. But generally, Burton the Bike has been a real stud. I can hardly believe that it holds up at all with the amount of weight it has to carry.

146 km to a school playground at the village of Ekebybrina.

A day of unusual weather, empty (mostly gravel) roads, insect problems and mechanical failures. The weather was reminiscent of midwestern tornado weather; periods of total calm followed by brief, but intense, thunderstorms. I spent much of the day watching, and trying to avoid, the storm systems as they developed.

I had a real mosquito problem at my campsite this morning, and for the rest of the day was plagued by flies and bees. I was stung in the neck by a bee which became trapped in my shirt. Actually, all through Sweden I've had a bit of a problem with bees. Every time I would start an uphill climb, and start sweating, I would find a bee or two circling my head. They would then follow me, often for several kilometers, all the while bumping into my face and back. If it was sunny I would often see their shadows as they hovered just behind my head. I have to reach speeds of 20 mph to shake these persistent pests. This really has been no more than a minor irritant, however--the biggest problem has been their collisions with my face.

Had another flat tire today (again, a tiny sliver of metal) and also had a nut and bolt fall off my pedal clip. Since I don't have a spare for this I will just have to manage with a single bolt. But my biggest mechanical problem has been with my crank. It worked itself loose 3 times today, and continued to get more and more out of round. I took it apart and tried to bend it by hand, but this was only partially successful. It looks like I will need to replace it soon.

I am camped on a playground next to a school in this small village. It is in the open, and so, despite Allmän's Rätt, I am a bit uncomfortable.

Awakened at 1:00 a.m. by the incessant buzzing of mosquitos. On my tent netting there are at least a hundred of them. What gives with these critters?  When I set up camp there were lots of flies but no mosquitos. They must work in relays. I'm also a bit wary because there is a group of teenage boys wandering around the playground. I'm not really scared that they will do anything malicious (this is Sweden, after all), just that they may do something stupid.

58 km to the youth hostel at Linköping.

Up at 6:00 and not a mosquito in sight--what gives here? Realized that today I needed a break, and so decided to stop at a youth hostel, relax and take care of bike repairs. The weather was threatening all day, with occasional downpours, so I selected a good day to take this break.

I arrived in Linköping at 10:00 and secured the hostel. The hostel personnel were not particularly friendly, and were suspicious when I lied that I had sheets (otherwise I would have had to buy them). I was quite disappointed that the hostel did not have a common's area and was virtually empty. I was given a room with 4 bunks, but it turned out that I did not have any roommates. It is a pleasant enough room with a tv in it. It also had a deep (one meter) tub which was an incredible luxury. Took my first real bath since London!

After bathing and washing my clothes I set out on my errands. I tried to cash a hundred dollar traveler's check at a local bank, but the service charge was 60SKr ($12)--outrageous! I then found a bicycle shop that had some reasonably priced Shimano cranks (165 SKr), so I spent the next two and a half hours taking off and putting on cranks. Unfortunately, the cranks did not fit because my axle stuck out too far. I'd made the mistake, in Eugene, of buying an axle which fit a crank that was seriously worn when I put it on. So my attempt to replace the crank proved to be unsuccessful, and I am in a quandary.

It is now 6:30 and I am back at the hostel. I am utterly exhausted and am spacily watching a talk show on Swedish tv. This location has only one station, so I am stuck with it. I'm quite disappointed that there seem to be no other guests here tonight. It has been too long a period without human contact.

83 km to a forest spot outside Horn.

A wonderful day. I had a hard time falling asleep as I felt suffocated by the heat of being inside. I finished "Guns of August" (a terrific book) and managed to fall asleep about 1:30. The night was also filled with indecision about what I should do with my crank. Should I spend the considerable sum necessary to repair it, or should I live with it until Berlin? When I woke in the morning, I decided to repair it here.

At 9:00 I went to the bike shop and found the owner Tommy (and his son, Mathias) to be extremely helpful. Tommy offered not only to sell me a full crank set at half price (200 SKr), but he allowed me to use all the tools in his shop to make the repairs. So I spent about 3 hours working on this, and eventually was able to replace the entire system with an excellent Shimano crank. What a luxury having a drive train that works properly! No more constant gear adjustment in order to keep the chain from rubbing on the derailleur. I feel like I have a new bike.

After I completed the repair work I went to the library and read all of the Herald Tribunes for the past month, and made copies of more music (Michael Row the Boat Ashore, Battle Hymn of the Republic, Sisters of Mercy, Amazing Grace). Finally I found an antikvarian bokhandler (second hand book store) and exchanged "Guns of August" for Henry Miller's "Nexus", before setting out about 3:00.

Despite my inability to make much social contact, I enjoyed the short respite in Linköping. It is a lovely, friendly city whose architecture dates from the middle ages. Lots of beautiful brick structures and cobblestone streets.

The morning's weather had been cold and rainy, but just as I set out the sun broke through. For the rest of my ride the sky was filled with billowy cumulus clouds. It was spectacular, as I had several panoramic views of the entire sky.

I found a nice campsite in a forest of tall pines. Most amazingly of all, there are no insects here! This is the first time in weeks that I can remember being able to leisurely set up my tent.

The wonderful thing about Sweden is, notwithstanding the insect problem, that I feel comfortable almost everywhere--in the forests, on the road, in the towns and cities. I never feel a sense of danger or uneasiness. I've not had a single hostile, or even aggressive, act directed against me her. Also, the drivers are probably the best in the world.

I read something in "Guns of August" that has stuck in my mind. In that book Tuchman quotes Goethe on the Germans; "if given the choice between injustice and disorder, the German will choose injustice." This is the most damning indictment of a people I can imagine. It is the essential difference between the Germans and the Swedes (who are also great lovers of order). The Swedes obey the rules but they only make rules that ought to be obeyed. That is why Hitler could happen in Germany but not in Sweden. "Guns of August" was also a real eye opener on the German character. I had not been aware of the German atrocities of World War I and how much they were responsible for that war. The main cause seemed to be the enormous German ego--even the artists had it, as Germany tried to impose its "kultur" on the world.

110 km to a forest spot west of Viserum.

Woke at 6:00 and there were no insects, so I opened the tent and blissfully lay back to admire the heavens. I was off by 8:00 on a clear cool morning clouded over with spectacular billowing and threatening cumulus clouds. I met two Swedish cyclists (father and son) on a 1,400 km journey. These were the first cyclists I'd met, since Ireland, that were going the same direction I was--and they were only 10 km from their final destination (Astrid Lindgren's birthplace. She is the author of Pipi Longstocking, a book which seems to have a grip on the Swedish imagination).

It was a perfect day for cycling, but the will was not really there. I stopped at the Vimmerby library for several hours and researched maps and historical information on Eastern Europe. I discovered that Auschwitz is only 25 km from the Czech border, so I may revise my plans and go straight through East Germany to Prague, before going into Poland. This would assuage some of my anxiety about cycling so many kilometers in Poland.

I've been feeling concerned about my bike. How does it manage to stay together under the load I have on it? This sense of fragility bothers me. I may take a day off in southern Sweden in order to overhaul the bike.

I have been developing some mental gymnastics in order to deal with my solitude while cycling. The spirituals are helpful, but I can't sing all day long. One of the things I am doing is explaining the causes and effects of World War I. It's a challenge, as they become more convoluted and complex as ideas develop in my mind. In a sense, the solitude I have been experiencing throughout Scandinavia is similar to solitary confinement--with the single difference that I am totally free--how ironic! On the one hand I strongly desire this solitude and really make no efforts to socialize. On the other hand, I think this solitude is the cause of the fatigue I have been experiencing the past few days.

July 4, 1992

130 km to a nature reserve (signposted "cyclar rästplats") on Skateflofjorden.

Truly a wonderful day of cycling. The first really ecstatic cycling since Pello in northern Sweden. The weather was cool and calm in the a.m. with cumulus clouds, but no threat of rain. The terrain was relatively flat, and I used my high gears for extended miles. The terrain consisted of beautiful, lush forests and lakes, and there was no traffic all morning. By noon I had done 110 km and stopped to spend the rest of the afternoon in the town of Alvesta (population 7,000).

I spent much of the ride presenting a lecture in my mind on Russian history. I managed to cover the years 1840 to 1942. I also completed an old argument regarding the relative merits of sports in education. I concluded that sports should be given a higher priority than arts and music because of the social necessity of the Hero. Also, sports cannot usually be done alone, whereas most art and music are individual creations. The person who is interested in art or music can pursue those interests on his/her own and does not need to be educated to do so. This is not so easy in sports. Also, in a very real sense, sport is art and music.

I am reading Henry Miller's "Nexus" and am astonished at how real it is to me. When I had read him years ago I simply could not relate to him at all. I think it is because he deals with madness and, in the past few years, I have had a real taste of that. For the first time, the bizarre characters in his book are real to me.

I am camped at a nature reserve, at a special site signposted for cyclists. This is the first time that I have encountered one of these sites in Europe (I have been at cyclist campsites along the west coast in America). The site is located on a lake and the wind is now howling and threatening to blow away my tent. But I am as snug as a clam and know that my tent can take it. I had a delicious meal of salami and mustard on french bread and potato chips--unfortunately I did not get any chocolate tonight and am feeling withdrawal symptoms.

Re: Nexus--love is a miracle; we have no idea where it comes from or where it goes when it ends.

123 km to a forest spot just outside Årkelstorp.

Tonight I will describe my camping ritual as it gives me great pleasure. Once I have found a good camping spot (and the spots in Sweden are unlimited) I take my tent out of the pannier and set it up. I then throw all my panniers and sleeping bag into the and zip the mosquito netting up. Once comfortably ensconced, I dispose of any mosquitos that might have slipped in, and blow up my air mattress. At this point I feel totally at peace, safe and comfortable in my "home". I then pull out the evening's feast (tonight a typical meal; a can of cold beans, salami and mustard sandwiches and a piece of fruit). I eat with relish and gusto--it always tastes great no matter what it is. When I am finished I pull out dessert--tonight two vanilla pastries. I always must have a dessert. When my meal is done I pull out my journal and write for about half an hour. When this is done, I proceed to my night's entertainment: usually my books (tonight, "Nexus"), my maps (Sverige Boken) or sometimes the radio.

Today's ride was hi-lighted by a "good Samaritan" act by me. I encountered a car that was stalled on the road and the driver (a Dane named Gent) asked for a push. We tried to push start it and failed; then checked under the hood and could find nothing wrong. So I volunteered to ride to his friend's home (7 km away) and let them know that he was stalled.

The area I am going through is somewhat densely populated farm land with a few forests mixed in. This is an important fruit and vegetable area, and I saw a lot of strawberry picking (jordgrubbar plockning) in process. I also saw a lot of wheat and grass fields which, since they did not have the benefit of irrigation, have clearly been devastated by the 6 week drought that has struck southern Sweden. The fields were dry and brown, reminiscent of California in the fall. When I tried to burn my garbage (a daily ritual) this morning, the ground actually caught fire. I had to use all my water to put it out.

Only got up to 1944 in my lecture on Russian History. I thought a lot about Marlene as this is the 21st anniversary of our meeting (half our lives), and yesterday was the first anniversary for Zooey.

Awoke to find a flat rear tire on my bike. I replaced the tire with my spare, as it was showing signs of wear, but could find no leak in the tube and so put it back on. Unfortunately, it is a slow leak and there is not much I can do about it except pump up the tire every few hours and wait for the problem to get worse.

Another fine, partly cloudy, warm day for cycling. Encountered mostly tail winds today. I did have a problem with signposts on Sverige Leden, as several were missing. I had to take a 12 km detour as I was relying on those signs. Later today I will be going off the marked route. It (Sverige Leden) has been like an old friend. From now on, I will be on my own, charting my own course. Discovered today that I am only a few kilometers from Lund, an old university city, so I have decided to go there tomorrow to search for second hand books.

The terrain was mostly flat farmland today, primarily parched wheat and flax. The architecture is strikingly different in the south with older brick structures prevailing (in the north most homes are made of wood). The southern accent is also quite recognizably different than in the north; a bit harsher and not as melodious. Also the people I have encountered have generally been less friendly and more suspicious than in the north. But, as always, this is from a very limited sampling.

I am camping in the open (in a cemetery) for the first time in awhile tonight. This is because the forests have disappeared and it appears to be all farmland from here on out.

95 km to a field near Trelleborg (next to the city dump).

The plan for today was to meander into Lund and spend as much time as necessary on my errands (tube repair for my bike, find some good books to read, find eastern German maps or the Lonely Planet guidebook) and then head on down to Trelleborg where I will be catching a ferry to East Germany.

Lund is an ancient city, different than anything I had seen in Sweden. The buildings are brick and stone and the streets are cobblestone (nice to look at but a pain to ride on). There is a huge (and starkly unattractive) church built in the 11th century in the center of town. The university was a real disappointment--a sprawling mass of buildings indistinguishable from a factory or a prison. I could not find a student center, and since I did not feel the kind of comfort I normally feel on campuses, I spent little time there.

I did find two antikvarian bokhandlers. The first had books piled everywhere in huge stacks and in no order. Many of these books were real antiquities, and I found nothing worthwhile there. At the second shop I found "The Dancing Wu Li Masters" (a book on quantum physics) and I tried to trade my book on Gandhi and my Swedish language book for it. The rather obnoxious owner took one look and said "too dirty, not interested". I ended up leaving my books at the library, but purchased his book anyway.

At the library I found some good maps of the DDR as well as a copy machine that was capable of copying it. I hope that this map will suffice for East Germany. I also found Lonely Planet's guidebook for Eastern Europe for the outrageous price of 275 SKr (more than $50). How ironic that a book subtitled "travel on a shoestring" would be sold for such an exorbitant amount.

I was not able to find a replacement inner tube for my bike. I went to a couple of shops and they had 27 inch tubes, but with Presta valves. I guess I will have to live with my slow leak for awhile.

I was almost hit by a car today in Lund. A woman made a right turn toward me and managed to stop less than a foot from me. I guess she was daydreaming. This is the closest call I've had so far on the trip.

After Lund I cycled to Trelleborg through flat, wheat farming country. I was looking for suitable campsites during the last several kilometers before town but was unsuccessful in finding one. This is the first time since I have been in Sweden that I have had a difficult time finding a place to camp. I finally found a park on the eastern outskirts of town which should afford me a reasonable amount of privacy.

It has been really striking how unfriendly the people in southern Sweden are, compared to the rest of the country. I even passed several Swedish touring cyclists today and, not only didn't they stop, but they didn't even greet me. I said "hej" and they just looked at me. The people in Lund were the same way. I guess I shouldn't take it personally. I have no idea what is going through these people's minds, but it most likely is not hostility.

I am looking forward to Germany. Sweden has become almost too familiar and I have developed habits in my daily routine that I need to alter. Also, since Sweden has been a neutral country for two centuries, there is little of historical interest here for me.

No mosquitos or flies here on the southern coast. Rather there are thousands of little black gnats that swarm in your face but do not sting or bit. It seems as though every insect in Sweden has its own particular territory.

CONTINUE ON TO EASTERN GERMANY