The collected writings of a Renegade Tourist

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South western Sweden 3:23 pm

The train is thundering through the kind of  landscape that seems typical of the un-forrested parts of northern europe: open plains, groves of trees and small hillocks on the horizon. Everything is covered in a thin layer of snow, the black trunks of trees sticking out against the white. The thin pink streaks against the pale blue sky alert me to setting of the sun and despite the heater being set to Death Valley mode, I lean closer to the window and cringe my neck to look behind me. The western sky is brightly lit in that pinkish orange tone … Read the rest

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