Malt bread or vörtbröd is part of Swedish Christmas tradition. It is sometimes possible to find decent vörtbröd in supermarkets if you are lucky, but none compare to the ones that Eric bakes. Rich, spicy, moist and yet fluffy.

On the train to town for some shopping, especially at the Science Fiction Bookshop. Ingrid wants the other parts of the Hunger games trilogy and I want some more Brandon Sanderson, etc.

Adrian learning chess moves with Eric.

Adrian and Eric, reading in the sofa.

Hiking around Lizard Point today, Britain’s most southerly point.

Today was the first truly sunny day we’ve had all week, and after a week of clouds and rain we were quite unprepared for this. We didn’t even think to pack swimming clothes for the kids, and only realized our mistake when we got to Kynance Cove and saw all the bathers there. (Plus, last time we were here 15 years ago it was April, so in my mind I never connected the beaches here with bathing.) Adrian splashed around in his underwear, but Ingrid was rather disappointed.

We haven’t had much luck with lunch spots during our walks here, but today’s was beautiful. (The first one was in a thistly corner of a weedy meadow; the second one was similar but with added rain.) Today we found a sunny little nook among the rocks overlooking another beach. Quite close to the path in reality, but with the exposure it felt like we were on top of the world.

I’ve really been enjoying English sandwiches we’ve had for lunch (cheese ploughman’s! egg and tomato!) and the luscious yogurts with flavours one can only dream of in Sweden (gooseberry! rhubarb!).

After yesterday’s sightseeing, we went for a walk today, at Bodmin moor. The Cheesewring draws the biggest crowds, but I found the other, similar pile of rocks next to the Cheesewring more pleasing to the eye. But I guess it’s less exciting since it looks somewhat less ready to topple.

Even more interesting than any of the rock formations were the dozens of old, abandoned mining buildings dotted around the landscape. All still standing and looking strong (albeit roofless), over a hundred years after they were abandoned. I wish I could have seen each and every one of them up close.

Today also turned out rainy. Not so much that it really bothered us, except during lunch and snack breaks. Sandwiches get soggy when it rains on them. And once we got down from the moor, “wet” also meant “muddy”. Very muddy. Ideally we’d all have had rubber boots for this walk, but there’s a limit to how much you can pack for a one-week trip… So we came home with thoroughly sodden feet.

We’re in Cornwall!

Back when Eric and I lived in London, we used to go on walking/driving holidays in various parts of Great Britain. We did Cornwall, Wales, Scotland, the Lake District, etc. Cornwall was one of my absolute favourites, and I’ve been longing to go back for a while. So here we are, in Cornwall for a week of walking and sightseeing.

Today we were sort of tired so we opted for sightseeing instead of walking, and visited Tintagel castle.

We went to see the Miro exhibition at Waldemarsudde. Nice weather, nice walk, nice lunch at the café, another nice walk to a nice fika afterwards at Rosendal – but the exhibition itself was underwhelming. “Yep, Miro, black squiggles” was what I got out of it. I don’t know what was lacking – perhaps Miro himself is old news now, or perhaps the works just weren’t presented the right way.

Day three of skiing and snowboarding.

Ski school is the best thing ever, and so is skiing, say the kids.

Adrian is progressing in leaps and bounds. He has graduated from the kids’ slopes to the real thing and bravely goes snow ploughing down the green slopes together with us.

Ingrid’s ski school group has gone down blue and red slopes and even a little bit of black. She’s practicing her “hockey stop” and is proud and pleased with the amount of snow that goes flying when she stops.

Eric and I have found a favourite green slope and even though we occasionally try others, we keep coming back to “Grandma’s downhill race”.

I have a new pair of ski boots for today. I’ve never found ski boots particularly comfortable, and the ones I rented initially seemed as good or as bad as any other. But yesterday afternoon I could barely stand or walk in them, because they hurt my shins so badly. I exchanged them for the widest model available, and the difference is huge! Now my shins no longer feel like I’m pushing them into a pair of narrow drainpipes. From my vantage point, my calves look like any other, but I guess my perspective is distorted.

Just like during last year ski trip, and like the year before, the weather here in Stöten is cloudy and the air is full cloud and fog and snow, especially at the top. And it’s windy. When we get to the top of the hill, our thoughts focus on how to immediately start getting down the hill, in between the trees, away from the wind.

This morning the snowfall actually turned into rain. By lunchtime we were all sodden and went back to our apartment to dry our clothes. But the afternoon brought snow again instead of rain, so we went back out.

The kids are enjoying ski school. And enjoying skiing – which was far from a given, since it’s Adrian’s first time and he can be quite cautious about activities where he can hurt himself.

We’re all at very different levels. I have decent technique (I think), but I am cautious and like relaxed skiing on easy slopes, preferably with nice views. Ingrid has no technique and mostly snow ploughs straight down, but likes “adventure” slopes with lots of turns and bumps. Adrian is a total beginner and goes up to the 2nd post on the beginner slope platter lift, then gets off and skis straight down. And Eric snowboards instead of skiing.

So we’ve been splitting up in various constellations throughout the day. The closest thing to skiing together as a family is when Adrian has ski school and the rest of us go down a nice green slope together.