The Night Before the Leap

I bought a hat for my husband today.

Some sunscreen too—because apparently Gotland is bringing the sunburn this year, not just the sword fights.

I also grabbed clear bottles, travel-sized everything, and triple-checked that we don’t have to check a bag.

Because tomorrow… we fly.

There’s something deeply satisfying about these little pre-trip rituals.

The last-minute shopping.

The slight panic over liquids.

The smell of brand-new shampoo in an unreasonably small bottle.

It’s not glamorous.

It’s not “medieval.”

But it’s real.

And it’s part of the spell.

Because trips like this—ones built on DNA, legend, longing, and a full calendar of dream posts—aren’t just about the destination.

They’re about how you cross the threshold.

Tomorrow we land in Stockholm.

We’ll walk through Gamla Stan, past crooked streets and royal ghosts.

And from there… onward.

To Visby.

To the wall.

To the dream.

Tonight, though?

It’s just packing.

Sunscreen.

Clear plastic bottles.

And the quiet hum of something ancient drawing near.

Resa – journey, trip

Used in a sentence:

Min resa börjar imorgon. Visby väntar.

(My journey begins tomorrow. Visby is waiting.)

Swedish Wanderlust