It’s 10 o’clock at night and the sun is shinning bright. The cafes and restaurants are full, dinners are being served. Small round and square tables are covered by large umbrellas protecting patrons from the midnight sun. This is so weird!
Bergen, June 2007
I’ve taken to writing (myself) postcards when travelling. I’ve this image in my head, of me, thirty-forty years down the line, going through stacks of yellowing postcards, and thinking about the good old days, a cup of hot chai in hand.