Once again, we stayed at The Bug and the people continued to be delightful, perhaps even more so this time. We didn't do much - hung out in the park, rode bikes to the beach for a rather cloudy sunset, read, cooked delicious food, etc. Oscar made yummy Swedish pastries called Semla, which are stuffed with almond paste and whipped cream. They took almost the entire day to make - much more labor intensive than I expected. I made a pretty great (if I do say so myself) Pesto Chicken Cavatappi loaded with fresh veggies, but I was a little overenthusiastic about the amount, it being our first night out of the mountains. We struggled, but overcame our plates in the end.
Bethany and I did both go busking again, separately this time, which ended up being more successful. Although it's fun to play together, our styles are quite different and don't showcase the other particularly well. She also said it's exhausting trying to sing over my fiddle, but since I've already put on a mute, there's not much else I can do. So from now on we'll play together for pleasure and busk separately for business.
We went to see our friend Jack play a gig at a local bar. He was surprisingly good! Surprisingly only because he was quite humble and didn't talk himself up very much. "Oh, I just play some cover songs, nothing very impressive," he said casually. But he had a lovely voice and a good stage presence, and even called B up to sing some songs during his break, which was a fun opportunity for her.
Jack was an interesting character whose lifestyle made me consider my own. He lives in a campervan, the luxury version of being on the road. He's not really tied to any place, working odd jobs as he finds them (when he's in the mood) but still has a bed to call his own, a place to keep his things, a home of sorts. Part of me yearns for this lifestyle and I spent several hours on the trail designing my own perfect campervan. It would come complete with a tiny kitchen (single burner, mini fridge hooked up to an extra car battery which could be switched with the original car battery to keep both charged). The bed would be elevated on a loft of sorts, the supports of which would be a bookshelf, chest of drawers, and mini closet/storage space. Pretty perfect, eh?
There are a two main things, however, that I do not think I would be able to handle about the campervan lifestyle, at least not for a very extended period of time. One is that I suspect I would quickly feel a lack of purpose that I would find irksome. Perhaps I would find purpose on the road - indeed, I sincerely hope that being on the road will now will help me more fully understand what I want for the future - but I can't quite believe that purpose lies in constantly indulging my love of travel. The second is that I would miss the people I love. Being always on the road is fascinating and you meet so many interesting people and learn wonderful, unexpected things from them. But the relationships are almost exclusively fleeting and, therefore, have less potential for depth. I do have a solution for this problem, however. A fleet of campervans! Everyone laughs at this - Bethany says it's a terrible reality TV show waiting to happen and Mom simply refused to accede to my grand plans - but I still hold that it's the perfect solution to life. Modern day nomads: the somewhat limited comforts of a small home, the company of loved ones, and the chance to travel the world, observing Beauty in it's many forms and faces.