🇳🇱🇳🇴🇸🇪 Catch Us if We Fall

Hello Adventurers, 

BLARGH! I’m humbly asking you for mercy this week because I’m feeling cuckoo bananas in the brain. And not from marathoning...but because my circadian rhythm temporarily feels like a Danny Carey polyrhythm. How come? Well, I’m currently in a northernly part of the world where — at this time of the year — the sun kinda sets at midnight and then hyperactively rises at 4AM…and it has thrown me for a whirl (i.e. I don’t feel sleepy nor can I stay asleep). Said another way, please excuse any typos that got past me in this issue of the newsletter!

Anyhoo, if you’re a longtime reader of this newsletter you may have been expecting / anticipating one of my dumb, written-in-jest quarterly wrap reports. It’s coming…just not this week. Why? Well, because it was more important for me to hold space for — and give thanks to — some friends and family who really took care of me these last few days. Plus, I’m still on the road for another ten days…and it felt too odd to reflect on this quarter’s travels while um..still travelling abroad. But hey, I’m home soon…and can look back then…so bear with me in the interim.

This issue of the newsletter covers five marathons around Amsterdam, Oslo, and Stockholm. These all-together-now societies gave me lots of hope — and lots to think about — so let’s get into it…together,

- Ben Pobjoy

P.S. Someone recently asked me how to find back issues of this newsletter…and they can always be found here.

BUT FIRST…

I guess it isn’t surprising that good people — who elect to live in community-minded societies — insisted on helping me this week. But the thing is, I come from a place in the world that largely pays lip service to the needs of others…so I was absolutely floored to be received by some friendly faces (none of who knew me well beforehand) whom opened their hearts — as well as their homes — to me this week.

Petra and Bram invited me to stay in their guest house in Amsterdam’s city centre, and it was a real treat to see the innards of a canal-facing home (especially because their courtyard has some original stonework from the 1700s). However, the greater gift was getting to know Petra who is my ‘second cousin, once removed’ on the Dutch side of my family (spoiler alert..I only learnt this a few months ago…after Petra DM’d me). Us three had breakfast twice together last weekend and it was really nice to learn more about our shared lineage, see old family photos, and learn more about Petra and Bram (who are high school sweethearts, and who are both acclaimed researchers with PhDs in different fields). I thoroughly enjoyed them both; they’re smart and fun and curious and quirky…and jokingly describe themselves as nerds. But they’ve lived in different countries on different continents, they’ve hiked Nepal, backpacked South America, and even rode a bus across Canada…so their conclusion isn’t supported by the data they submitted to me for review, LOL. We also chatted about the state of affairs in the Netherlands as well as Dutch values (e.g. ethics over economics and cooperation over competitiveness and living over labouring), and I now feel less punk / more culturally Dutch. Anyway, I left the Netherlands feeling like Petra and Bram are full-on family…and it gave me lots of happiness (because my personal connection to the Netherlands has waned ever since my Dutch grandmother died, and Petra re-ignited it — entirely through her — and I’m just supremely grateful). Hartelijk dank!

Pippa and Øyvind invited me to stay with them in Oslo…and I’m embarrassed to relay that I showed up in the middle of the night like a total asshole (because of a plane delay). Anyhoo, I met my Canadian pal Pippa in Montreal — like a million years ago in the aughts — and we’ve stayed in touch over the years, and she’s the best / has evolved to be such a killer (and I’m super proud of her)! Basically, Pippa and her fiancé Øyvind are c-suite executives at successful Norwegian tech companies (each driven by social purposes), and my conversations with them were utterly fascinating; they’re like the healthiest counterpoint to the toxic workaholic culture back in North America. Like, they are the definition of ‘outdoorsy Scandinavian work-life balance’, they safeguard time to pursue lots of fulfilling hobbies, and just exude the care and class that’s palpable in all facets of life in Norway. Oh, and both have worked in different countries on different continents…and choose to call Norway home because they are thoughtful and considerate people…drawn to this thoughtful and considerate place. Tusen takk!

Petra and Bram, and Pippa and Øyvind…thank you for your support, hospitality, and kindness!

2023 TREK TRACKER

Where in the world...record am I?

• Countries visited: 37

• Flights taken: 41

• Kilometres flown: 62,125

• Marathons completed: 116

• Kilometres trekked by foot: 5,521.8

• Total kilometres trekked since 2015: 68,613

RAPID WEEKLY RECAP

A speedy synopsis for time-crunched readers

• The Wildest Thing: Seeing a drunk tourist in Amsterdam — in broad daylight — pissing ‘hands free’ from a moving party boat into the canal as kids on other boats went by. It was probably the most disgusting / disrespectful thing I’ve ever seen anyone do😡

• The Biggest Obstacle: Long story…but I shrank my main pair of shoes…and am marathoning on bald backups until I get back to Canada😧

• The Lesson Learned: Amsterdam and Oslo are shinning examples of cities designed for the greater good (within countries that do a good job of trying to look out of everyone)😍

FIELD NOTES: AMSTERDAM, THE NETHERLANDS

Low lands flowing with high culture

I can’t drop much knowledge ‘bout Amsterdam ‘cause the place is a no-brainer; it’s incredibly unique because of the olden architecture along the canals, the bike culture is world-class, the Dutch take their coffee seriously, and Amsterdam itself is just this enduring creative powerhouse when it comes to the arts. That said, the one modern downside is that accommodations in Amsterdam are notoriously expensive (but if you’re a culture vulture it’s definitely worth the cost of entry).

Anyway, this is my third time to / third marathon of Amsterdam in less than two years. And I return because the city has lots to offer…and I just can’t get enough. So ya, on marathon one (in 2021) and marathon two (in 2022), I chopped it up in the city centre…and on this third marathon I hit Amsterdam-Noord as well as the countryside to mix it up (and because I wanted to explore the canal demarcated farms in the latter).

TBH, I did a non-flashy route this time around, and dedicated my free time to hanging out with Petra and Bram (whose house I had unknowingly passed on previous marathons on previous trips…crazy). So the following is a rundown of things I’ve typically enjoyed in Amsterdam on past trips (presented in random order):

The Bloemenmarkt is a floating flower market on the canal, my missus put the Foodhallen on my radar last year (and it’s great for eats), the Rijksmuseum is worth a visit for the massive Rembrandt paintings, there’s an original Keith Haring mural in the wild here from 1986, this publisher has a cute little café with design forward self-help-y books (that always get dragged by academics…but whateves), and the major parks here rule. What else? Well, I always make sure to poke around neighbourhoods like Jordaan, De Pijp, and the main strip in Dapperbuurt (which is really multicultural). And in terms of private galleries, for me it’s the Relfex Modern Art Gallery, Galerie Ron Mandos, and the Bildhalle. And leading up to Christmas, the area around de Bijenkorf is festive and full of shoppers…and in the summer the canal swim spots here and here rule.

Sadly — and it is not unique to Amsterdam — but the Stolperstein there always punch me in the gut. If you’re unfamiliar with them, they are inscribed brass plaques (pictured below) with the name and life dates of victims of Nazi extermination or persecution, set in the sidewalk out front of the victim’s last known residence. They are all over the city, and when you see a grouping of plaques out front a residence — then see a modern family with kids coming and going from said residence — eesh…it’s just really heavy (ala one family here now, one past family gone via extermination or persecution). Yes, the holocaust warrants huge memorials…but I find these tiny personal ones the most powerful of ‘em all.

FIELD NOTES: OSLO, NORWAY

A righteous path straight down the middle

Oslo as well as Norway combine to feel like this one big progressive experiment in trying to cultivate some kind of balanced utopia for all…one that exists somewhere between the state and the market. And the imagination — as well as the aspirations here — aren’t just on full display, they’re things that inspire a lot of thought and hope (like, if you come from a ‘meh’ place full of ‘meh’ living like I do)…for a style of modern living that’s more equitable and enjoyable. And man, I really don’t know where to start…

The first thing I noticed about Oslo was how spotlessly clean it was…you can probably eat off the sidewalk after you prepare a meal on it. And I didn’t see one unhoused person on the 135 kilometres of marathons I did in my 60-ish hours there. And this city is just full of public space and nature (and this point is subtle…but it’s a city with nature rather than a city with some token parks).

TBH, I spent a lot of time doing nature-y stuff ‘cause the air is so fresh and the trails (be it around this forested peninsula or this lake reservoir) are so rad, but the following stuff stood out (presented in random order):

The Old Town caught my eye with its understated four storey buildings each colour-blocked with mustards and sky blues and ochres, this strip of saunas on the water in the revitalized port district of Bjørvika seemed like it’d be incredible to hit in the winter, Gustav Vigeland’s sculptures in the sprawling / highly-manicured Frognerparken were really something else, the bygone uniforms of the gun-toting guards at the Royal Palace were unique, the massive Santa-Claus-holding-a-butt-plug sculpture was the most LULZ thing I’ve seen in ages, and Bogstadveien and Thorvald Meyers gate were charming strips full of shops and restaurants.

But really, I just dug how relaxed and safe and pedestrian friendly Oslo is for strolling and cycling, and I just loved how these sun-starved-in-the-winter people are sunbathing in the funniest places around town in the summer. Furthermore, women here wear these really lovely, flow-y dresses that go down to the shin with these near-wildflower-like patterns and colours…and it was just a really noticeable regional look that is modest and functional yet put-together and casually elegant.

Lastly, I like music and musicology so I had to hit Neseblood Records — formerly named Helvete — which is/was a cornerstone of the super fucked up Norwegian Black Metal scene (which was full of murder, suicide, and church burnings in the 1990s). I thought going to Norway would contextualize this extreme music genre for me…but Oslo is so chill and considerate and orderly that I’m sorta perplexed about how such violent and satanic music can come from a place that’s so peaceful and heavenly, ha ha.

The second thing I noticed about Oslo was how elevated the baseline of everyone’s fitness levels are here. The runners? Fast. The cyclists? Fast. The roller skiers? Fast. The tennis players? Fast. Like, everyone — regardless of age — is hammering (and this is a widespread thing). Like, no fucking around or going through the motions. And no one farting around or taking breaks either.

I’m not suggesting that everyone is pro in skill, but everyone is seriously committed to their cardio-heavy practices (and they execute it sans pained expressions). And it’s really funny because the people here are comically short on words and big on evidence, and I just saw everyone giving their best (which spoke for itself) without the need for that North American type of bravado, pumped up-ness or yelling. And it was just super inspiring and made a big impact on me. Like, I just admired the ‘silent assassin’ approach; no bells and whistles, all brawn. And it fully made me understand why someone like Kristian Blummenfelt came out of Norway.

Anyway, I took all this in — through observation and osmosis — and just nodded to myself like “Yep, approach understood and bookmarked.” And all of it fucking motivated the hell out of me…just witnessing what I’ll call the extra ‘Norwegian gear’… which I’ve stolen and chucked into my mental toolkit.

Furthermore, I can’t believe how fit people are here; especially people above the ages of fifty. The physical culture is real and ruthless. And don’t mistake my identification of ‘fit’ as being a superficial celebration of thin (the latter isn’t special in — and of itself— and can be lazily achieved with heroin and cigarettes as unhealthy substitutes for healthy movement). And I don’t know if it’s some kind of latent viking gene but these people put in the work and age super fucking well. Hurrah!

The third thing I noticed — when I got outside of Oslo’s city centre — is that this country really is the land of rock and water…which I know is like a ‘no duh’ statement given this place is synonymous with fjords. However, the geography really feels like a Franklin Carmichael painting and/or Muskoka on a tren cycle.

As such, the locals are out in the waters doing recreational boating…as it felt like absolutely everyone else was swimming (be it on the spectacular human made piers in the city centre (pictured…which is downtown, if you can believe it) or swimming at the fifty million beaches and/or rocky slopes into water that I passed on my three marathons here). And ya, if you should find yourself here in the summer, I’d encourage you to check out the Ingierstrand Bad, a huge-ass diving tower into the huge-ass Bunnefjorden fjord. Any dive-y photos in this issue of the newsletter were made there, and it was just so rad to watch the brave-to-me Norwegian kids whipping themselves off of the top deck (as I hung out up there like a wimp…sweating bullets and nearly shitting bricks because I fucking hate heights).

Basically, all the public infrastructure in this country’s capital seems designed for the improvement of its human capital…and I’ll just say it; this place feels like the world capital — out of all the places I’ve been — for this type of marvellous mission.

FIELD NOTES: STOCKHOLM, SWEDEN

It’s too early to call…but kinda cool, but maybe a tad too cold?

Due to getting here on Thursday — as well as having to write this issue of the newsletter in its entirety on Friday — I’ve only been able to bang-out one marathon in Stockholm…and I did so in a banged-up, sleep-deprived state. As such, nothing in these Stockholm field notes should be trusted. Like really, this is just a first impression from someone barely holding on! So take it or leave it…but I’d encourage you to ‘leave it’ since I don’t even trust the fucking accuracy of it…and I wrote the damn thing!

Basically, Stockholm is super whacky; it is spread across 14 islands on an archipelago where a lake meets a sea…so it is super fun to marathon around, and easy to do because there’s loads of paths with excellent wayfinding signage. So a big checkmark there.

The traditional architecture here though…big strike. It isn’t my thing; imagine a princess castle with a lot of gaudy doodads and soft turrets that some homophobe painted in manly-man colours ‘cause he’s that insecure. Not my jam in the least hence no documentation of it…and why I went underground…and not as some anti-mainstream act of rebellion…but because Stockholm’s subway stations are immersive works of art (and more than compensate for the meh-ness above ground). That said, I would encourage anyone to stroll the path around Djurgården to see how rich people live; some of the homes are stately and only half are half offensive in their gingerbread house-ness.

The only other thing that I can add is that Norrmalm is the spot for people watching…and that I’m looking forward to checking out Stockholm’s narrowest street on Gamla stan, being a tiny island that’s home to the city’s Old Town.

I really like plants and animals…but don’t know much about either (i.e. too dumb for zoology and botany). However, I take every opportunity to visit botanical gardens when I travel since they often function as a quick survey of a region’s flora and fauna (especially when I’m stuck in a city and can’t get into the wilderness…and not like I would right now…because I have an irrational fear of trudging through poison ivy and getting sidelined thereafter). Plus, Øyvind already warned me that the viper I marathoned over in Norway could’ve really fucked me up if it had bitten me.

Anyhoo, I hit the Bergianska trädgården here — which is free to visit and beautiful — and the Victoriahuset on its grounds (being a Victorian greenhouse that has somehow survived) was pretty remarkable…just because I’ve never seen massive lilies IRL (and they were totally real…but sorta unbelievable in size…and I wouldn’t have been surprised if they were movie props from the 1993 smash hit move ‘Jurassic Park’).

Nature really is remarkable…and it is equally remarkable that our species will prolly turn this useless swimming pool attraction into a carpark for a McDicks one day. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Before coming to Stockholm, I’d have said that Paris has the tightest street style overall in Europe…but that select Milanese take the cake for the most flash and pizzaz and boldness. But shit, Stockholm just took first place with ease. The locals are seriously put together; men in tailored oxfords and fitted trousers and women cutting aggressive shapes in stunning silhouettes with sharp lines. And to orient yourself, the lewk here is big on the Filippa K vibes (and generally anything of that ilk). So it’s real tonal and fierce…and just such a welcome visual vacation from slobby-ass North Americans in jorts and athleisure wear and unsexy unisex sweatpants and those grown-ass men that dress like style-challenged teens their entire lives.*

*And yes, I recognize the hypocrisy of writing this passage while looking like an elongated lawn gnome who screwed a tall leprechaun that gave birth to a dirtbag snail in hiking-esque gear (with all its worldly possessions on its back) that was cloned with some greasy sketchbag who stole your car’s catalytic converter in the middle of the night …BUT FOLKS, I JUST CALL IT AS I SEE IT…AND THAT’S ENTERTAINMENT, BB!

BEST LOCAL THING-Y

Yes, you can totally roast me for ordering a burger and fries while in Europe, but hear me out…I just want to acknowledge how progressive this continent is when it comes to offering superb plant-based options (absolutely everywhere). Like, there’s no better place to be vegan than in Europe!

In North America, this isn’t widely prioritized — and the vegan fare there isn’t that innovative nor is there much range in terms of options — but Europe is just leading the way with this fare, and it makes plant-based eating over here delicious as well as a delight.

Anyhoo, the Vegan Junk Food Bar is a small Netherlands-based chain that is / does exactly what its name implies, and it honestly does this type of food better than any other restaurant in the category. Ha ha, and trust me…I’ve eaten at loads of these types of places around the world (because I have no shame in saying I enjoy junk food, and because it allows me to eat 30 trillion calories in one go…so I don’t wither from all my marathons).

Now, I originally had apprehensions about hitting the VJFB ‘cause the food is intentionally Instagram-y by virtue of its bold colours…but the grub is legit. The T.R.U.F. Suprême Fries are a riff on loaded fries, and this specific take has a cheese-like sauce, a pink truffle oil sauce, fresh chilis and raw spring onions…and it’s tasty, indulgent, and well-executed (i.e. lots of different tastes and textures that work well together). The Notorious Burger is comprised of a mock beef patty topped with mock chicken wings topped with a cheese-like sauce…with everything crammed into a black/pink bun. It’s easily the best veggie burger I’ve ever had…hence why this isn’t my first time eating here!

There are a few VJFB locations around Amsterdam but I prefer this one for the big patio. The place is always rammed and the queue can be long…so get there early…and make sure you don’t have plans afterwards ‘cause this place leaves you in a food coma!

POBJOY'S GLOBAL PRICE INDEX

This is an on-going documentation of how much things cost in different places around the world. Here are some of the things I bought in Amsterdam, Oslo, and Stockholm (all prices converted to USD):

• One 500 millilitre bottle of Coke Zero and three protein bars from a grocery store in Amsterdam: $5.50

• One 500 millilitre bottle of Pepsi Max, one 500 millilitre bottle of water, and two protein bars from a gas station in Oslo: $15.77

• One train ticket for a single 18 minute-long ride from the airport to the city centre in Stockholm: $29.41

MARATHON MUSINGS

Give me that sweet, sweet Scandi candy

When Pippa told me that the core working hours in many Oslo offices is typically from 9AM-3PM…with winter Fridays being half days so people can get to their cottages…I nearly died. Well, more accurately I tried to choke myself to death on the falafel I was eating (in hopes that karma would reincarnate me as a blessed Norwegian).

Now, I’ve never been opposed to working hard…it’s why everyone tells me I look older than my age (which is a sick burn made kind). And I agree; I’m comically haggard from working in North America (where 10% of people tend to do 90% of the work in an organization ‘cause the other 90% of the people have one-tenth of a brain and a fraction of the work ethic). And if you’ve ever worked somewhere where fuck-around people make meetings about meetings when you got shit to do (and you want to blow your brains out) you know exactly what I mean. But really, I’ve worked hard ‘cause Toronto — where I live — is crazy expensive (and not worth it).

The kicker is that I’ve always worked hard at hard jobs, and — over the last decade — I was generously rewarded with being promoted to one of the highest tax brackets back home. And you know what? It never bothered me ‘cause I live by the words of Milton Friedman who famously said, "From each according to his ability, to each according to his needs."

So I’ve never had a problem tossing coin into the collective coffers because I’ve always had more than enough (and never made shit financial investments like having kids). Plus, I hope others genuinely get to have whatever they need via the coffers. And yo, those with means who moan about taxes and perceived leeches…alligator arms.

That said, the product I’m paying for in Toronto and Ontario and Canada…it’s of questionable quality (but not as shite as anything ‘Made in America’). Like, breaking a leg in ‘Murica isn’t wishing someone luck…it can be wishing them financial ruin if they don’t have health insurance. And ya, back home the healthcare is universal…but the wait times are infinite. The water is drinkable…unless you live on the rez. And the public parks exist…as do the rimless basketball nets or the tennis court missing nets in said parks. And I don’t think us Canadians get a lot of bang for our buck…and that’s maybe the downside of a small population living across a big land mass. Dunno…

But the Nordic model? Click on that aforementioned link and see what those mofos get. And question it all you want, but the countries who’ve adopted that model routinely score the highest on the World Happiness Report. And I’ve long known this — and finally saw it with my own eyes this week (the Nordic model really does inform everything in Norway) — and I can’t believe the rest of us have not demanded this type of model from the governments in our countries.

But hey…what do I know?

Well, I know I’m going to Finland on Sunday…and it has been ranked the happiest country on earth for six consecutive years…because they got the Nordic model there too.

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