It’s echoing peel has been the punctuation of this week. Me and Mahgol have laughed so hard that at one point we were almost forcibly removed from a grocery store.  We have cracked our ribs over the childish, the immature, and the down right hormonal. The renovations (and resolutions (to take less responsibility)) have offered up an extraordinary week, filled  with saunas,  meditation, mass convergence on the swimming pool and a 20+km hike in waist deep snow, to offer but a slice.

This evening I find myself sat in the plush surroundings of Dimi’s apartment. A sjyst lia indeed. We were invited to dinner earlier in the week. After a stressful and Kåren smelling day, to walk through these doors and find a looking glass world was quite something. The place makes my Mexican stripes and miss matched crockery look armature. Globules of flowing purple wax cover the bathroom floor where candle lit baths have been left to cool. The air is perfumed and trailing plants line the stairs. Each room is a small celebration of colour and a riot of sensual fun. The table laid so deep it was impossible to sample the succulent fish and salted almonds that lay on the other side. Bread was ignored in favour of herb crusted potatoes and handfuls of fresh plumb tomatoes. Feta with spiced paprika and chicken in a rich oily sauce. We ate to the sounds of Brazilian samba and were soon lost in Dimi’s tales. At some point in the evening there appeared a cigar and a bottle of enviable rum. There appeared also an offer of unwaited generosity, and her spare key was attached to by growing chain. So now, instead of a week of the gypsy life I am making the most of this little piece of heaven.

It has been so wonderfully easy with Mahgol, it is so comfortable to share her little 12sqm abode (hon har bra åsikte… eller utsikte…) to sleep when needs be, to eat and drink tea. To feel a part of the small Iranian family. It makes me feel ungrateful to say that I need my own space, but it is a part of my soul. It feels good to be alone in a building sometimes.

Yesterday was a remarkable day. We hiked, we laughed, we shared, we ate, we introduced, we showered, we slept, we drank tea and ate cookies, we faced the fear and walked with a hand on the dog, we talked and played pingpong with bits of plaster board. We hugged and kissed and felt a little worse for wear. Mealou, swimming though snow, like a troupe of tiny tomte in the worlds biggest bakery store. Flour and icing sugar. Wonderfully cold, with warm hearts. Responsibility in achievement. And three true gentlemen. There is such liberation when accept ion is. Time holds no bearing. Just this leg and then the next, with a smile on your face and a boot full of snow. After emptying my pair of private swamps the dry socks felt like heaven. A cotton cocoon. Adrenaline and endorphins. There is little better.

Last week end it felt as if my body had been hollowed. A thick latex shell with nothing but wasted thought and memory rattling arround inside. This evening I swear that my soul is threatening to burst through the seams. It is welling behind my throat, and half way down my arms. Warm expansion as my eyes roll back and… and… and…

There is laughter, love and life.