Project p0rn for the craft-minded

After two months on beautiful Bastugatan, it was already time to move out again. Most of our stuff was in storage, so I decided to move the rest on the bike by myself, as Sean was in England.

Good idea.

Really.

This was the total amount of stuff I needed to move:

It was all going to neighbour island Kungsholmen – a distance of about 3 km, of which half is the feared bridge Västerbron (feared by bikers for its ability to tire you out, that is) (ok, it’s not really feared, but somehow I’ve tricked myself into giving it some kind of mythical status).

I figured I’d be able to do it in three goes, each of them carrying one big bag at the back, two at the front, and one fully loaded backpack. First go, about 8pm (backpack not pictured).

So far, so good. I crossed Västerbron with a smile on my face, although I did have to get off and walk halfway up. When I got to the new place, I was rewarded with a pretty spectacular view of the nearby DN skyscraper.

I offloaded and biked back. Next go proved a little bit more difficult, running out of steady bags to transport stuff in. I set off again about 9.30 (backpack not pictured).

The evening light was still pretty spectacular though. View mid-sunset, mid-Västerbron:

After that, I felt exhausted but very proud of myself. I also felt pretty much done. If I’d had a bathtub I would’ve wanted to go home and run a hot one, then relax with a biertje reading a cheap crime novel and light some candles (ish).

That, however, was not the case. I still had a load of stuff and it was rapidly getting dark… By the time I had biked all the way back and packed my bike for the third time (11pm-ish) it was pitch black outside. Again, I was wearing a huge backpack that isn’t on the picture, and that’s a wooden sewing box on the front of the bike with a black back on top that you can’t see in the dark.

I biked down Hornsgatan and over that dreaded bridge again, then offloaded all the stuff and headed back. Despite all my efforts, I still had some stuff left, but I just couldn’t do anymore that same night. I had already biked about 18k over some pretty steep hills, half of the way very heavily loaded.

I collapsed at midnight, only to get up at 8am to clean out the temporary apartment, and get the last stuff over to the new one around noon.

I’m too old to move on the bike. But it seems kinda fun, in hindsight.