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		<title>Niklas in America - niklasbergstrand</title>
		<link>http://blogabond.com/TripView.aspx?TripID=5110</link>
		<description>
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		<dc:language>en-US</dc:language>
		<dc:creator></dc:creator>
		<copyright>Copyright © 2026, niklasbergstrand</copyright>
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					<title><![CDATA[Introduction]]></title>
					<description><![CDATA[When I was thirteen years old I made a trip with my parents to the <a href="/United-States">United States</a>. The plan was to see the whole of the country in just one and a half weeks. Naturally, that trip was riddled with jetlags, speeding from one point to another, waiting at airports and the general frustration of not being in one place long enough to explore it properly.<p style='clear:both;'/>Since then I have always wanted to return and catch up on what I missed. However, there has always been one thing or another that has made me postpone my plans. Either it has been lack of money, lack of time, or lack of initiative.<p style='clear:both;'/>Last year I was stuck in a dead-end job and living in a noisy, bug-infested house in Brixton, South London. It was then that I received an e-mail from my American relative Jay Bergstrand, asking when I would ever make that US trip I had been thinking about for so long. I wasn’t happy with my situation and felt I had little to leave behind. So I made the decision to quit my job, leave the house and go travelling.<p style='clear:both;'/>After I returned I decided to write up a chronological account of my travels, which you can read on these pages. There is also a map at the top of each page which shows the whereabouts of each location. Many thanks to all the people who let me stay at their places, showed me round, and provided good company on my trip:<p style='clear:both;'/>Ken<br>Brianne<br>Marianne and Roland Kuchel<br>George and Connie Beasley<br>Joe<br>Jay and Joyce Bergstrand<br>Wynness Holmberg and family<br>Soozie<br>Carla, Martha, Leila and Dustin<br>Jim Bergstrand<br>Kristina Bergstrand<br>Kristina and her parents<br>Brittany<br>Janee and Jerry Ahnert<br>Julian<br>Anne<br>Emma<br>Barbara and Rich Stockwell<br>Jim Stockwell<br>Ben and Heather<br>Jim and Vicki Gorter<br>Glen Allen<br>Michelle<br>Krista]]></description>
					<author><![CDATA[niklasbergstrand]]></author>
					<category><![CDATA[Boston MA, United States]]></category>
					<pubDate>Sat, 10 Jan 2009 00:00:00 GMT</pubDate> 
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					<title><![CDATA[Los Angeles]]></title>
					<description><![CDATA[Los <a href="/Philippines/Angeles">Angeles</a> traffic has a notorious reputation, with freeways that have eight lanes going in one direction and marauder drivers zig-zagging past you at lightning speed. Therefore I was slightly nervous as I approached the city. Hovever, thanks to using a GPS (one of the most brilliant inventions ever!) I had no problem making my way to the youth hostel in <a href="/United-States/Hollywood">Hollywood</a>.<p style='clear:both;'/>Krista, one of the girls I had met up in Santa Cruz, came down to visit for the last three days of my trip and we had a really nice time together.<p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42560' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture533.jpg' border=0></a></div> <p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42562' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/IMG-3145.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42561' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture538.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/>Together we explored some of the many things that Los <a href="/Philippines/Angeles">Angeles</a> has to offer, such as <a href="/United-States/Hollywood">Hollywood</a> boulevard, <a href="/United-States/Beverly-Hills">Beverly Hills</a>, Mulholland Drive, Silverlake and Santa Monica.<p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42559' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture530.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/>This is me on Venice Beach, on the last evening of my trip. Despite being in the middle of November, the temperature was comfortably warm. I think this picture sums up my whole feeling that night. There is an element of sentimentality, knowing that my journey has come to an end and that I will soon be back in rainy London having to look for a job. But there is also a feeling of great happiness that I have had the chance to experience such a friendly, exciting and beautiful country. It was a great adventure for sure.<p style='clear:both;'/>I hope to be back soon!<br>]]></description>
					<author><![CDATA[niklasbergstrand]]></author>
					<category><![CDATA[Los Angeles CA, United States]]></category>
					<pubDate>Tue, 20 Jan 2009 00:00:00 GMT</pubDate> 
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					<title><![CDATA[Big Sur]]></title>
					<description><![CDATA[About half-way between Los <a href="/Philippines/Angeles">Angeles</a> and San Francisco lies the Big Sur, a coastal area which features one of the most scenic drives in the world. The views here were incredible. I felt on top of the world as I was cruising along the winding cliffside road.<p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42549' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture396.jpg' border=0></a></div> <p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42551' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture400.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42554' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture439.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42555' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture457.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/>Just South of Big Sur, I stopped at a youth hostel in tiny <a href="/United-States/Cambria">Cambria</a> for one night. In the evening I had a nice walk along the beach, feeling a bit sad that my trip would soon come to an end. <p style='clear:both;'/>Early the next morning I made a visit to Hearst Castle, the amazing palatial home of newspaper tycoon William Hearst. Hearst was a real Great Gatsby figure, regularly hosting parties to the glitterati of the time. Some of his A-list guests included Greta Garbo, Charlie Chaplin, the Marx Brothers and <a href="/United-States/Winston">Winston</a> Churchill. In the hills around the castle, zebras, antilopes, tigers and over 70 other exotic species once roamed, altogether forming the largest privately owned zoo in the world. Most of these animals are now gone but you can still see flocks of zebras in the hills. The castle features two swimming pools, its own movie theatre and is filled to the brim with art and antiques.<p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42556' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture466.jpg' border=0></a></div> <p style='clear:both;'/>This is the outdoor swimming pool, the Neptune pool.<p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42557' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture515.jpg' border=0></a></div> <p style='clear:both;'/>This is the main entrance to the castle.<p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42558' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture519.jpg' border=0></a></div> <p style='clear:both;'/>This is the indoor swimming pool, modelled after Roman baths.<br>]]></description>
					<author><![CDATA[niklasbergstrand]]></author>
					<category><![CDATA[Cambria CA, United States]]></category>
					<pubDate>Tue, 20 Jan 2009 00:00:00 GMT</pubDate> 
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					<title><![CDATA[Santa Cruz / Monterey]]></title>
					<description><![CDATA[Thanks to Glen, I had managed to save enough cash so I could rent a car and take the scenic drive from San Francisco to LA. My first stop was in touristy <a href="/United-States/Monterey">Monterey</a> where I visited its famous aquarium. <p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42542' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture358.jpg' border=0></a></div> <p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42543' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture370.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/>The fella above was one of my many new friends I met in <a href="/United-States/Monterey">Monterey</a> which included sharks, giant jellyfish, a huge octopus and a few dolphins.<p style='clear:both;'/>The aquarium was impressive but the rest of the town did not excite me very much. Instead of continuing south, I decided to make a detour up to the surfer hotspot Santa Cruz. On the way I drove through some stunningly beautiful countryside with small apple-farms, breathtaking redwood forests and rolling hills. <p style='clear:both;'/>That night I stayed at a pretty youth hostel made up of wooden houses with large verandas. There I made friends with a Swedish guy called Adam who was also travelling around America. <p style='clear:both;'/> <div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42544' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture376.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/>That night me and Adam went for a few beers in town where we became friends with Krista and Rose - two girls who were in town for a snowboard catalogue photoshoot.<p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42545' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture378.jpg' border=0></a></div> <p style='clear:both;'/>The next day I drove out of town and explored some nearby redwoods. These gigantic trees stand tall and majestic, reaching far into the sky. It was a meditative experience to walk around in these quiet forests.<p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42546' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture390.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42547' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture397.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42548' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture407.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/>I also had time in the evening to drive along the coast and see the magnificent coast North of Santa Cruz. <p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42552' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture415.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42553' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture419.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/><br>]]></description>
					<author><![CDATA[niklasbergstrand]]></author>
					<category><![CDATA[Santa Cruz CA, United States]]></category>
					<pubDate>Tue, 20 Jan 2009 00:00:00 GMT</pubDate> 
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					<title><![CDATA[San Francisco]]></title>
					<description><![CDATA[Few places in the world are as talked-about and loved as San Francisco, and the city definitely did not disappoint. I spent a week in San Francisco wandering about town and discovering places. <p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42539' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture337.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42540' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture342.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42533' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture292.jpg' border=0></a></div> <p style='clear:both;'/>These are the famous sealions down at Fishermans Wharf. They made some terrible noises and smelt like rotten garbage.<p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42537' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture325.jpg' border=0></a></div> <p style='clear:both;'/>This is the Castro area, the centre of the universe if you are a gay man. <p style='clear:both;'/>San Francisco definitely is one of the most beautiful cities that I have been to. However, like Seattle it also had its fair share of homeless people. In the Haight area I saw many scruffy skater kids selling and buying drugs. I couldn’t quite figure out whether these were genuinely desperate people with no other choice, or just kids who had chosen to run away from their middle-class families to live a junkie lifestyle for thrills. <p style='clear:both;'/>A few times I met up with Michelle, a Swedish friend of mine who has recently moved to San Francisco. One day we rented bicycles and rode through Golden Gate Park - a massive stretch of green space which was the centre of the 1969 “Summer of Love”. Hippies from all over America once congregated here to sing songs about love, talk about love, make love and take copious amounts of drugs.<p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42538' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture335.jpg' border=0></a></div> <p style='clear:both;'/>This is me and Michelle. That big red thing in the background is the Golden Gate Bridge.<br> <br>I also happened to be in San Francisco during the day of the presidential election. I knew that, whatever the outcome, there would be some exciting things happening in the city that night. Ever since the start of my travels the talk of the town had been who would be elected president. Many I met on my trip were appalled by the small-minded, “hockey-mom” ignorance of Sarah Palin and the possibility that she might become one of the most powerful people in the world. A few others feared that if Obama would win, the US would be run by a “communist”. One thing was for sure, this election would be a historic event for an America at a crossroads.<p style='clear:both;'/>At around 8PM, when the first news came that Obama had been announced as the winner, I took the train into town. Many people had gathered at Union Square in the centre, and were singing, dancing and shouting in the streets. Cars were honking their horns and the crowd would yell “Obama, Obama!”. There was a festive mood mixed with a great sense of relief. Me and Michelle joined in with the rest of the people, yelling campaign slogans with a Swedish accent. I felt happy to have been there on that historic day.<p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42541' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture347.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/>During my time in San Francisco I stayed with Glen Allen who is a relative on my paternal grandmother´s side and lives in a suburb called Dublin. Glen was an extremely generous host and made sure that I had a really good time during my stay.<p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42535' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture307.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/>One night I got to meet Glen’s son Mike and his family, who live in nearby San Jose.<p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42536' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture320.jpg' border=0></a></div> <p style='clear:both;'/>On another occasion I also met with other members of Glens family. This is over at the house of Glens nephew Mark (far left), after having celebrated his parents’ 50th wedding anniversary at a very exclusive local restaurant. <br>]]></description>
					<author><![CDATA[niklasbergstrand]]></author>
					<category><![CDATA[San Francisco CA, United States]]></category>
					<pubDate>Tue, 20 Jan 2009 00:00:00 GMT</pubDate> 
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					<title><![CDATA[Portland]]></title>
					<description><![CDATA[The next day Jim drove me to my relative Jim Gorter and his wife Becky, who live in the suburbs of Portland. <p style='clear:both;'/>Portland is known for being a very open-minded place, full of environmentally-conscious arty types. “Keep Portland Weird” is the city´s unofficial slogan - a reference to the urban bohemia that also local authorities encourage and support. The place is definitely eclectic. Seldom have I encountered so many bookshops, record stores, odd little shops and independent cafes as I did here. The city’s flagship bookstore “<a href="/United-States/Powell">Powell</a>’s books” is an absolute <a href="/Saudi-Arabia/Mecca">Mecca</a> for any book-lover. Think a huge, three-floor department store filled to the brim with books of every kind and you might just begin to get the picture.<p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42214' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/02112008337.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/>Emma in <a href="/United-States/Seattle">Seattle</a> had put me in touch with her Portland-based friends Ben and Heather, who invited me to come along with them to a halloween party. Heather had previously owned a vintage clothing shop and had a whole garage full of old dresses. My outfit was perhaps not in the league of some of the others at the party, which included a mad scientologist and a guy dressed up as “Robama” (a robot version of Obama), but I had a lot of fun. <p style='clear:both;'/>Ben and Heather also took me to see a rendition of the Rocky Horror Picture Show the following night. We didn’t expect it to be performed by an amateur troupe of nervous high school kids, confusedly shuffling about on stage and acting out the various scenes of the movie. I thought the whole thing was absolutely hilarious. We finished the evening with a drink in the bar in the tallest building in Portland.<p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42531' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture252.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/>When I was not with Ben and Heather, I stayed with my Jim and Becky. One day they drove me to see some beautiful waterfalls outside of town. <p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42532' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture263.jpg' border=0></a></div> <p style='clear:both;'/>We also stopped at another beauty spot where the view over the Columbia river was magnificent.<br>]]></description>
					<author><![CDATA[niklasbergstrand]]></author>
					<category><![CDATA[Portland OR, United States]]></category>
					<pubDate>Tue, 20 Jan 2009 00:00:00 GMT</pubDate> 
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					<title><![CDATA[Saint Helens]]></title>
					<description><![CDATA[Barbara Stockwell´s brother Jim and his wife Vicki have a beautiful house right on the banks of the Columbia river, which separates the states of Washigton and Oregon. I had a very comfortable stay there for one day and enjoyed hearing Jim’s tales of his life living in Guam and other exotic places. <p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42530' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture249.jpg' border=0></a></div> <p style='clear:both;'/>This is me and Jim outside the Saint Helens town hall.<br>]]></description>
					<author><![CDATA[niklasbergstrand]]></author>
					<category><![CDATA[Saint Helens OR, United States]]></category>
					<pubDate>Tue, 20 Jan 2009 00:00:00 GMT</pubDate> 
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					<title><![CDATA[Friday Harbor]]></title>
					<description><![CDATA[After the visit to the Stockwells I met up with Emma again and we caught a ferry out to the San Juan islands, an archipelago stretching all the way up the Canadian West Coast and into Alaska. Emma grew up on one of these islands and seemed to know just about everyone we happened to meet. <p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42529' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture240.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/>On the ferry we bumped into Emmas old friend Jackson, and we spent the night having a little party over at his girlfriend’s house on Lopez Island.<p style='clear:both;'/>The next day we caught the ferry to San Juan Island, visiting her old school (where we even attended a class) and the homes of her step-sister and her step-parents. The island was a quaint paradise and felt very un-American. The main town is an old fishing community, thankfully spared of Starbucks, McDonalds and the like, but with plenty of small restaurants and cafes. The rest of the island consisted of green small-scale farmland and beautiful coastline. After a dinner of clam chowder, we returned with the ferry to the mainland to stay at Emma’s dad’s little cottage.<p style='clear:both;'/>Emma was an excellent tour guide and a great person to be with, making my visit to the San Juan islands area one of the highlights on my trip. I left feeling privileged to have seen a place that perhaps not that many other tourists from Europe would have ventured to.<br>]]></description>
					<author><![CDATA[niklasbergstrand]]></author>
					<category><![CDATA[Friday Harbor WA, United States]]></category>
					<pubDate>Tue, 20 Jan 2009 00:00:00 GMT</pubDate> 
					<link>http://www.blogabond.com/TripView.aspx?tripID=5110</link>
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					<georss:point>48.53444 -123.01583</georss:point>
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					<title><![CDATA[San Juan Islands]]></title>
					<description><![CDATA[After a few days in <a href="/United-States/Seattle">Seattle</a>, Emma drove me an hour up North to my relatives Barbara and Rich Stockwell in Shelter Bay. <p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42527' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture225.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/>I stayed with Barbara and Rich for a day, seeing some beautiful coastal scenery in the nearby areas. This is on top of a mountain overlooking the archipelago.<p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42526' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture224.jpg' border=0></a></div> <p style='clear:both;'/>Near Shelter Bay was an Indian reserve. Tragically, drug abuse and social problems were rife in this area and many of the houses looked like rubbish dumping grounds. This is Barbara and Rich in front of a totem pole.<br>]]></description>
					<author><![CDATA[niklasbergstrand]]></author>
					<category><![CDATA[La Conner WA, United States]]></category>
					<pubDate>Tue, 20 Jan 2009 00:00:00 GMT</pubDate> 
					<link>http://www.blogabond.com/TripView.aspx?tripID=5110</link>
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					<georss:point>48.38889 -122.495</georss:point>
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					<title><![CDATA[Seattle]]></title>
					<description><![CDATA[<div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42522' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture202.jpg' border=0></a></div> <p style='clear:both;'/>To many people of my generation, <a href="/United-States/Seattle">Seattle</a> is first and foremost known for being the birthplace of Grunge music. My guidebook also reminded me that Starbucks coffee, Microsoft and Boeing have their headquarters up here. Other than that, I knew rather little of what to expect of this Northwestern metropolis.<p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42521' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture201.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/> <br>The first day I stayed with Julian (second from left) from the Couchsurfing website, who works as a programmer for Microsoft. He had a nice, big house and I slept very comfortably in his guest room. In the evening we went to a bar where I met some of his friends. <p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42523' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture204.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/>The next day I ventured into town, walking round aimlessly, curiously wondering what would await around the next street corner. <a href="/United-States/Seattle">Seattle</a> has some very beautiful neighbourhoods but also a large population of homeless people. <p style='clear:both;'/>Although being a fairly large city, the public transport service is awful. A pointless monorail system connects downtown to the “<a href="/United-States/Seattle">Seattle</a> Centre”, a complex of amusement parks, museums and concert halls. Paul Allen, Microsofts co-founder, has put a lot of money into a tram system originally called South Lake <a href="/Costa-Rica/Union">Union</a> Trolley. Apparently it was not until locals started printing SLUT t-shirts that the developers realised what the acronym was. The system now bears the slightly less offensive name of South Lake <a href="/Costa-Rica/Union">Union</a> Streetcar, or SLUS.<p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42525' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture215.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/>In the afternoon I met up with Emma, another couchsurfer. She showed me Pike’s Place Market - a lively place where you can buy anything from fresh fish to vintage clothing. In the evening we had dinner in Ballard, a part of town which was once an old Scandinavian fishing village. <p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42524' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture212.jpg' border=0></a></div> <p style='clear:both;'/>The next day Emma and I went for a stroll in town and met with Anne (another couchsurfer, on the left) and Emmas friend Lauren (the one with the amazing dress). In the afternoon we went to an alternative music / art festival which was full of interesting acts. <br>]]></description>
					<author><![CDATA[niklasbergstrand]]></author>
					<category><![CDATA[Seattle WA, United States]]></category>
					<pubDate>Tue, 20 Jan 2009 00:00:00 GMT</pubDate> 
					<link>http://www.blogabond.com/TripView.aspx?tripID=5110</link>
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					<georss:point>47.60639 -122.33083</georss:point>
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					<title><![CDATA[Eugene]]></title>
					<description><![CDATA[<a href="/United-States/Eugene">Eugene</a> is a quiet, pretty town, with many tree-lined boulevards and a lively university with a beautiful campus. I stayed there for two days with Janee Ahnert, a relative of mine, and her husband Jerry.  <p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42269' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture186.jpg' border=0></a></div> <p style='clear:both;'/>Jerry used to be a flight photographer and had many interesting stories to tell from his life, including some near-death experiences! This is Jerry and his son Paul at a place called Salmon Creek Falls. <p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42517' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture176.jpg' border=0></a></div> <p style='clear:both;'/>The leaves in Oregon at this time of year were turning into beautiful shades of yellow and red. <p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42520' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture191.jpg' border=0></a></div> <p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42271' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture190.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/>These sculpture heads on one of the main university buildings were made by Edna Dunberg, a relative of mine. She sadly passed away from cancer at the age of 24, soon after she had completed this work.<p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42519' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture199.jpg' border=0></a></div> <p style='clear:both;'/>This is me with Janee(upper left), her sister Barbara (top right), her cousin Lynette (bottom left) and her aunt Ruby (bottom right). I also met Janee’s son Russel who works as a fireman.<br>]]></description>
					<author><![CDATA[niklasbergstrand]]></author>
					<category><![CDATA[Eugene OR, United States]]></category>
					<pubDate>Tue, 20 Jan 2009 00:00:00 GMT</pubDate> 
					<link>http://www.blogabond.com/TripView.aspx?tripID=5110</link>
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					<georss:point>44.05222 -123.08556</georss:point>
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					<title><![CDATA[Sacramento]]></title>
					<description><![CDATA[<div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42261' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture158.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/><a href="/United-States/Sacramento">Sacramento</a>, the capital of California, has a pretty old town centre. <p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42270' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture317.jpg' border=0></a></div> <p style='clear:both;'/>In a record shop I became friends with Brittany who worked there. She later invited me to a party / concert at one of her friends house which was a very nice event, full of heartful performances from young singer / songwriters. <br>]]></description>
					<author><![CDATA[niklasbergstrand]]></author>
					<category><![CDATA[Sacramento CA, United States]]></category>
					<pubDate>Tue, 20 Jan 2009 00:00:00 GMT</pubDate> 
					<link>http://www.blogabond.com/TripView.aspx?tripID=5110</link>
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					<georss:point>38.58167 -121.49333</georss:point>
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					<title><![CDATA[Salt Lake City]]></title>
					<description><![CDATA[The train rolled into <a href="/United-States/Salt-Lake-City">Salt Lake City</a> at 1 AM, two hours late. Luckily, Kristina, another couchsurfer, was there to pick me up at the station and drove me to her parents house where I was staying.<p style='clear:both;'/><a href="/United-States/Salt-Lake-City">Salt Lake City</a> is perhaps best know for being the Mormon capital of the world. This religious group came here in the 1840’s after having been driven away from settlements in Illionois and the East Coast. Polygamy, previously a common practice within the church, was offically banned in 1890, but I was told that a number of mormons still live in such arrangements. <p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42252' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture098.jpg' border=0></a></div> <p style='clear:both;'/>I visited the temple area in the centre of town where young Mormon girls of many nationalities eagerly await visitors who are looking to receive a guided tour. I met a Swedish Mormon girl from Jönköping, the closest <a href="/Sweden">Sweden</a> comes to having a <a href="/United-States/Salt-Lake-City">Salt Lake City</a> of its own. Above is a picture of the holy temple, which you can only enter if you are a Mormon. <p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42254' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture106.jpg' border=0></a></div> <p style='clear:both;'/>My host Kristina showed that there is more to <a href="/United-States/Salt-Lake-City">Salt Lake City</a> than bible-studies, anti-drinking laws and polygamy. She is a big fan of rockabilly music, swing dancing and 20s burlesque performance art. One night she took me to a club full of tattooed, beer-drinking locals, where I (despite futile resistance) was forced to participate in an introductory swing-dance lesson. I experienced a short-lived sense of relief as we left, only to be subjected to further public embarassment at a karaoke bar later on. Half of <a href="/United-States/Salt-Lake-City">Salt Lake City</a> are strict followers of the Mormon faith, while the other half seem more devoted to partying and wreaking havoc. Kristina was good fun. <br>]]></description>
					<author><![CDATA[niklasbergstrand]]></author>
					<category><![CDATA[Salt Lake City UT, United States]]></category>
					<pubDate>Sat, 17 Jan 2009 00:00:00 GMT</pubDate> 
					<link>http://www.blogabond.com/TripView.aspx?tripID=5110</link>
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					<georss:point>40.76083 -111.89028</georss:point>
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					<title><![CDATA[Rocky Mountains]]></title>
					<description><![CDATA[<div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42240' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture032.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/>First on my itinerary around the mountains was the Rocky Mountain National park, one of the most visited areas in Colorado. I tried to do some exploring by foot, but because of the high altitude I quickly became out-of-breath from just doing some easy hikes.<p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42220' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/11102008301.jpg' border=0></a></div><br> <p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42219' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/10102008274.jpg' border=0></a></div><br> <p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42218' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/10102008275.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42217' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/10102008281.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/>In the evening I arrived with my rental car at a beautiful serene mountain lake. A few times I stopped and explored its large beaches and a deserted campsite. <p style='clear:both;'/>Next day, on the way to the village of State Bridge, I discovered a beautiful gorge with a river.<p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42221' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/11102008316.jpg' border=0></a></div> <p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42222' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/11102008320.jpg' border=0></a></div> <p style='clear:both;'/>I had to climb down for an hour to get to this river, which I then followed upstream for a few kilometres. <p style='clear:both;'/>In the evening I arrived with the car into Glenwood Springs through a ravine that was so steep that the road was built hanging off its walls, with opposite traffic running on a road built underneath. Glenwood Springs, where I stayed for the night, wasn’t my kind of place. Apart from two bars serving beer to loud snowboarder types there was not much entertainment to speak of.<p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42241' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture033.jpg' border=0></a></div> <p style='clear:both;'/>The next day I drove to Aspen, one of the most famous ski resorts in the US. As the weather was quite rainy I decided to continue on with the car. <p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42242' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture038.jpg' border=0></a></div> <p style='clear:both;'/>About half an hour outside Aspen the weather turned very snowy and the road took me up some steep mountains. With only a few months of driving experience I was a little nervous driving along this icy road. <p style='clear:both;'/>My next stop was Leadville, an intriguing little mountain town full of trashy but eccentric houses / trailers. I spent a good hour just driving round with the car, marvelling at all the odd architecture. Each house was a spectacle of its own.<br> <br><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42245' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture045.jpg' border=0></a></div><br> <p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42246' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture049.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/>From the local museum I found out that the town had been a significant silver-mining town some hundred years ago. Things used to be very rough here with gunfights, train robberies and drunken brawls. The town also used to feature countless brothels and saloons. A few people became rich and built themselves grand Victorian villas on the hills. Most residents however remained very poor, even to this day.<p style='clear:both;'/> <div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42244' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture044.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/>Many original residents were of Slovenian origin but at this graveyard I also found tombstones with several Swedish names. <p style='clear:both;'/> <div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42251' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture088.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/>The Swedes used to live in this part of town called Chicken Hill, named after a local fortune seeker called “Chicken Bill”. They moved here after having driven away the Irish whom they were constantly in fights with. Before I came to America I had not seen many trailer-houses, but this place was full of them. I suppose it’s a cheap alternative if you cannot afford a house.<p style='clear:both;'/> <div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42250' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture086.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/>This used to be the Swedish church.<p style='clear:both;'/> <div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42243' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture042.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/>This bearded man, bearing the unusual name “Cosmos”, was a walking museum of his own. He had lived in Leadville for over 20 years, but came from Armenia. He had many interesting stories to tell about his life as we sat and talked on his front porch. <p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42262' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture058.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/>I found Leadville so intriguing that I decided to stay there overnight. These people were a couple from Denver who I met in one of the local pubs.<p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42248' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture074.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42247' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture068.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/>The next morning I went up the mountains to explore the remains of the old silvermines above town. Among these mines I met some local skateboarders who were shooting a skate-video to raise money for rebuilding their local skatepark. <p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42249' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture080.jpg' border=0></a></div> <p style='clear:both;'/>I left Leadville feeling that I had seen a a place left untouched by business interests and large-scale tourism. There were some grave social problems with poverty, unemployment and drug addiction, yet I felt that people maintained a lot of pride in their place. It was a fascinating blend of redneck trash and arty bohemia that I did not encounter anywhere else on my travels. The town even had a college, several bars and restaurants, an opera house and its own film festival - so it was definitely not lacking in entertainment. <br>]]></description>
					<author><![CDATA[niklasbergstrand]]></author>
					<category><![CDATA[Leadville CO, United States]]></category>
					<pubDate>Sat, 17 Jan 2009 00:00:00 GMT</pubDate> 
					<link>http://www.blogabond.com/TripView.aspx?tripID=5110</link>
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					<georss:point>39.25083 -106.29194</georss:point>
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					<title><![CDATA[Denver]]></title>
					<description><![CDATA[<div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42238' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture027.jpg' border=0></a></div> <p style='clear:both;'/>I took an overnight train from Chicago to <a href="/United-States/Denver">Denver</a> and actually managed to get a full eight hours of sleep sitting up. When I woke up in the early hours of the morning I discovered a completely flat landscape outside, glowing in the yellow morning light. <p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42239' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture030.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/>I used <a href="/United-States/Denver">Denver</a>, at the very foot of the Rocky Mountains, as a base to explore the mountains. The actual city did not excite me very much although I did see some surrealist pop art at the <a href="/United-States/Denver">Denver</a> art gallery which I though was interesting. I also visited the <a href="/United-States/Santa-Fe">Santa Fe</a> district, home to another few decent art galleries.<p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42237' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture022.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/>I stayed with Jim Bergstrand, the son of Jay Bergstrand, who works as a Project Manager for a construction company. I also met his girlfriend Tina. Together, the three of us went to a restaurant where I was served a ridicolously big milkshake<br>]]></description>
					<author><![CDATA[niklasbergstrand]]></author>
					<category><![CDATA[Denver CO, United States]]></category>
					<pubDate>Sat, 17 Jan 2009 00:00:00 GMT</pubDate> 
					<link>http://www.blogabond.com/TripView.aspx?tripID=5110</link>
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					<title><![CDATA[Chicago]]></title>
					<description><![CDATA[My main reason for visting Chicago was to visit a ska music festival with some  international reggae and ska bands. Most of my time was therefore spent at the festival venue, an old warehouse in a middle-of-nowhere part of town. I saw some good bands there such as Symarip, Eastern Standard Time, Green Room Rockers, Dr. Ring Ding, Skapone and Monkey. <p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42268' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/symaripposter475.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/>I slept at the house of Carla, Martha, Leila and Dustin, another group of couchsurfers willing to host a weary Swedish traveller. They joined me for one night at the ska festival and also took me to hear some Chicago house music at a club.<p style='clear:both;'/> <div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42235' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture002.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/>I thought Chicago’s skyscrapers were more impressive than the ones in New York. This is perhaps because Chicago has more open spaces, allowing you to get a better view of how tall these monstruos structures really are.<p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42236' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/Picture020.jpg' border=0></a></div> <p style='clear:both;'/>The skybar in the Hancock Building allowed for some stunning views over the city. <p style='clear:both;'/>The last night in Chicago I visited the Green Mill, an old jazz club which apparently used to be a favourite of Al Capone. The underground tunnels beneath the bar, directly connected to an old theatre one block down the street, are rumoured to have been used by Capone to hide liquor.<br>]]></description>
					<author><![CDATA[niklasbergstrand]]></author>
					<category><![CDATA[Chicago IL, United States]]></category>
					<pubDate>Sat, 17 Jan 2009 00:00:00 GMT</pubDate> 
					<link>http://www.blogabond.com/TripView.aspx?tripID=5110</link>
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					<title><![CDATA[Minneapolis]]></title>
					<description><![CDATA[After a few days in Wisconsin, Jay, Joyce and I visited the Swedish Institute in <a href="/United-States/Minneapolis">Minneapolis</a> – a grand mansion which used to be the home of a Swedish-American newspaper tycoon. It was interesting to read the newspaper cuttings of stories relating to the Swedish emigrant community.  It almost felt like some kind of parallel universe, a second <a href="/Sweden">Sweden</a> with its own geography, customs and celebrities.<p style='clear:both;'/>After this visit I said goodbye to Jay and Joyce and went to meet Soozie - another couchsurfer whom I had arranged to stay with. Soozie had an interesting hobby – breaking into, and exploring, old derelict buildings. Equipped with torches I went with her and her friends to try and enter “Hamm’s”, an old disused brewery complex. According to Soozie’s friend, climbing around in the metal brewpipes was an “amazing experience”. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately) we never managed to go inside as a police car was parked right outside the building. Plan B was to go to an old park, open a manhole, and explore some underground tunnels. Being slightly claustrophobic I was quite happy that we never found that manhole. I also figured that if I got caught by the cops, they might send me on the next plane back to <a href="/Sweden">Sweden</a>, and I definitely wasn’t  ready to go home yet!<p style='clear:both;'/> <div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42215' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/03102008268.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/>Instead we ended up going downtown to visit the statue of American TV legend Mary <a href="/United-States/Tyler">Tyler</a> Moore. Above is a picture of Soozie giving Mary a kiss. <br>]]></description>
					<author><![CDATA[niklasbergstrand]]></author>
					<category><![CDATA[Minneapolis MN, United States]]></category>
					<pubDate>Sat, 17 Jan 2009 00:00:00 GMT</pubDate> 
					<link>http://www.blogabond.com/TripView.aspx?tripID=5110</link>
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					<title><![CDATA[Wisconsin]]></title>
					<description><![CDATA[Jay Bergstrand, a second cousin to my father, has been extremely kind in helping me organise a lot of my trip. He has a strong interest in genealogy and our Swedish family. Through his help I managed to connect with many of my American relatives throughout the journey, for which I am very grateful.<p style='clear:both;'/>Jay lives in a small village called Balsam Lake, about 1 ½ hours NorthEast of Mineapolis together with his wife Joyce. This is also the area that my great great grandfather Johan Månsson emigrated to in 1872. <p style='clear:both;'/>I stayed with Jay and his wife Joyce for five days. During this time I got to meet a lot of relatives and other people with Swedish connections. <p style='clear:both;'/> <div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42228' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/28092008205.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/>The picture above is of Jay and his niece Joyce, whom my parents had met on a trip to Wisconsin in the 1960’s.<p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42234' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/02102008261.jpg' border=0></a></div> <p style='clear:both;'/>Above is Jay’s brother Fred (second from left) with his wife, Jay’s nephew Chuck (middle), Jay’s wife Joyce and Jay. <p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42229' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/29092008213.jpg' border=0></a></div> <p style='clear:both;'/>This is me and Jay with Jay’s niece Tammy who is the manager of a local restaurant.<p style='clear:both;'/>One day we drove into Minnesota and visited the villages of Lindstrom and Scandia - places with a very strong Swedish history. Scandia is the place where Johan Månsson lived his last years and lies buried. <p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42230' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/29092008231.jpg' border=0></a></div> <p style='clear:both;'/>This is Wynness Holmberg (middle) and her family who also live in Scandia.<p style='clear:both;'/>Lindstrom had some bizarre signs in Swedish, a giant coffeepot hanging from an old water tower, and a selection of Swedish souvenirs in the shops. The town also boasted a statue of the famous Swedish writer Vilhelm Moberg, who had stayed in Lindstrom in the 40’s to do research for his famous book about Swedish immigrants. <p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42213' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/02102008257.jpg' border=0></a></div> <p style='clear:both;'/>During a meeting with the local Swedish club at Jay’s house, I met a man called Larry Lee Philipson. He is an old rockabilly artist who has played with people like Johnny Cash. His list of merits even includes a place in the Rockabilly Hall of Fame. <p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42231' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/30092008235.jpg' border=0></a></div><p style='clear:both;'/>One day Jay took me to the St. Croix river - a site featuring some unusual ‘potholes’. These were formed during the last ice age when melted ice from the glaciers would whirl around and drill deep holes into the rock. Some of these were more than ten metres deep.<br>]]></description>
					<author><![CDATA[niklasbergstrand]]></author>
					<category><![CDATA[Balsam Lake WI, United States]]></category>
					<pubDate>Fri, 16 Jan 2009 00:00:00 GMT</pubDate> 
					<link>http://www.blogabond.com/TripView.aspx?tripID=5110</link>
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					<title><![CDATA[Milwaukee, Wisconsin]]></title>
					<description><![CDATA[Through the Couchsurfing website I had arranged to stay with Joe, a friendly guy who shares my appreciation for ska music. Joe was kind enough to come and pick me up at the station after my 24-hour train ride from Washington. He also gave me a key so that I could come and go as I pleased, and leant me his bike. This kind of hospitality and trust in total strangers is what makes the Couchsurfing way of travelling so great. <p style='clear:both;'/>In the evening I watched a play (a rendition of Jack the Ripper with fake English accents) in a local theatre, then explored the downtown area on Joe’s bike.<p style='clear:both;'/><a href="/United-States/Milwaukee">Milwaukee</a> is known for its fine beer and cheese. It also has a large population of German descent. Whether this has any link to it also being the ‘fat capital of the US’ I don’t know, but it does hold the Guiness record for largest number of bars per capita. Despite this, I found the city streets very empty, even though it was a Friday night. This sterile environment was depressing, but in a beautiful way. The only lively spot was some kind of huge Hells Angels-type gathering in a car park, but I made sure to stay well clear of that. <p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42227' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img2.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/27092008203.jpg' border=0></a></div> <p style='clear:both;'/>The next day Joe showed me round downtown along the <a href="/United-States/Milwaukee">Milwaukee</a> river. We also ate a sourdough pancake at an Ethiopian restaurant and visited a <a href="/United-States/Milwaukee">Milwaukee</a> version of the German Oktoberfest. In the evening we went to the birthday party of one of his friends, where I talked to lots of people and tasted some more local beers. <br>]]></description>
					<author><![CDATA[niklasbergstrand]]></author>
					<category><![CDATA[Milwaukee WI, United States]]></category>
					<pubDate>Fri, 16 Jan 2009 00:00:00 GMT</pubDate> 
					<link>http://www.blogabond.com/TripView.aspx?tripID=5110</link>
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					<title><![CDATA[Washington DC]]></title>
					<description><![CDATA[To make my travels around the country easier and cheaper, I purchased an AMTRAK card, which gave me unlimited train travel on the national rail network. These trains are very comfortable but are also incredibly slow and never arrive on time. Fortunately I had some books and my MP3 player to keep me entertained during my long journeys.<p style='clear:both;'/>The train to Washington DC passed through <a href="/United-States/Baltimore">Baltimore</a>, a rather dire East Coast city which I would visit only if I wanted a ‘real’, gritty experience. Instead I continued on to DC where I stayed for three days. During my time there I saw some of the ‘essential’ stuff like the White House, the Mall and the Capitol where I took a guided tour. I was surprised at how close one can get to the White House building – the fence is only some 50 metres away and you can see through the windows of the house.<p style='clear:both;'/><div class='borderedPhoto'  style='margin-right:10px;float:left;'><a href='/Photos/PhotoView.aspx?imageID=42226' class='photoLink' ><img src='http://img.blogabond.com/UserPhotos/5069/300/22092008192.jpg' border=0></a></div> <p style='clear:both;'/>On the second day I had a very unlikely encounter in the hostel corridor with my old room-mate James from my time at boarding school in <a href="/Sweden">Sweden</a>. He lives in London and although we see each other every now and again, none of us knew that the other was to be in the US. We went to see a 3D film at the Space Museum together –  an experience almost as surreal as bumping into each other at the hostel.  <p style='clear:both;'/>On my last day I rented a bike and rode around the city, visiting Arlington Cemetary where JFK lies buried, and also upscale Georgetown. <br>]]></description>
					<author><![CDATA[niklasbergstrand]]></author>
					<category><![CDATA[Washington DC, United States]]></category>
					<pubDate>Fri, 16 Jan 2009 00:00:00 GMT</pubDate> 
					<link>http://www.blogabond.com/TripView.aspx?tripID=5110</link>
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