Zen Dog

The motorbikes rumbled past as the two Rough Collies looked on. "Wow! two wheelie things, lots! ( excited waggy tail). The female liked motorbikes.
"yeh. I see" said the sage older male.
"nice noise. Clever humans?
"Not so clever. The third one has salami in his topbox he has forgotten to eat".
"oh yes, I smell it too. Big shiney. Red. WOW"
"It's OK but I used to have a Huskvana in a previous life" Said the wise older male. He was hoping for enlightenment this time around, which is difficult for a dog.

Zen Dog says "Only sex is better than having your tummy tickled"

Nine motorbikes rumbled on into the setting sun, not knowing the stir they had just caused.

Night Riders

We met at the Preem filling station at 5:30 PM. Some of the guys have hotdogs already to sustain them for the evenings trip. 11 of us are travelling 75 miles to the speedway to watch local teams Elit Vetlander and dackarna battle it out. We are not hanging around. It's late enough and we need to get there. It is always special when so much hot iron takes to the road in a gang. None of us are small. There are some seriously large machines on the road tonight. We travel with the traffic, not in it, if that makes any sense. We do not move like cars. Why would we? We thread our way through the busy parts, and blast along the (almost) empty Swedish highways in formation. Outside left, followed by an inside wingman. Tight. Free parking for bikers has to be right.

It is years since I went to a speedway meeting. It is wonderful. The smell. The noise. Following the home teams fortune and shouting at them. Hot dogs and improving Swedish (??) "Dubbel korv med brod snalla". Another hot dog on its way with lashings of mustard. Laying on the hill side in a gang watching the heats until 9 ish was a great way to spend a weekday evening. These guys have to work tomorrow, so as soon as it's over and Elit Vetlanda have their victory we are saddling up and heading out through the snarl up. Filtering comes naturally if you ride in the English Midlands. Soon enough still in day light, we are heading north for home, fast. The gaint double Swedish timber trucks slow the light traffic, and overtaking is into the setting sun. Thing is, if you are used to English overtaking, and can see 1.5 k of clear road as the monster truck the only vehicle blots out the sun with it's massive, slow bulk. Hell you can shut your eyes, gun it, and go!

The riders peel off one by one as we get into the suburbs of Jonkoping. Big Janne and Eva barrel on alone as I am the last to turn off onto the 26. Sugary Sex as Jane calls the road leading to the 195 and home. It makes me smile to hear the satnav losing her English again. Did you think Sugary Sex was anything else? Shame on you! Back at the cabin at 11 PM and it is not fully dark yet. I love this latitude. Summer in the north is magical. I cannot imagine not being in the north at midsummer. It calls to my soul so strongly.

A Day on The Beach and Sugary Sex

25C today and clear blue skies. I have a day on the beach for sure, just as soon as I have attended to a very important and unavoidable task.


Last night we fixed the end of my tenancy of the cottage. This morning it struck me that the agreed date is a weekend. I checked. Yep, it is. That is a problem for ferry bookings. It's summer and weekend sailings are popular. I rapidly had no choice but to grab a good deal staring me in the face. The nearest week day crossing on a Tuesday. So my departure is set. The thing that stops that being sad is that it is seven weeks away! This was followed by the utilitarian task of a quick trip into Habo to get some grub, and a look into the library and information office. You know? just parking up and walking around the shops I get company. A young boy was blown away by Elsa. His Mum was very nice, so conversation ensued. People say hello and talk. It's really nice. This done and food stashed away at the cottage, I can kick back and relax.

There is a lake shore beach just 5.5 miles from fagerhult. The highway is quiet, almost no traffic, so I break a rule. I ride over to the beach in my shorts. Something I never do these days. The smell of coconut oil, the sound of sqealing children, an icecream kiosk, a marina to mouch around. Summer !! No need for a good book. I have scenery to look at that is special and rare to my Midland English eyes. Vatta is forming poetic back ground noise. Maroon, Ocre washed farmsteads, clouds sailing by overhead. If he doesn't start forming it all into coherent poetry soon, I'll go nuts, and maybe have to do it myself. Warning:

There was a young man from Bankeryd
Who liked to stay home a lot
.........................................
........................................
..........................................

Get the picture Vatta? Pick up you pen and start writing or I'll Limerick you to death!

Senapsill for lunch (herrings in mustard) while Huskie (lawn mower robot) comes to say nothing to Elsa. He cuts the grass up to her front wheel, shuffles around and trundles away again. He'll do it again later. The house has a dog who is old and deaf. If you clap your hands really loud he comes, but won't go away again.

Bike riding later, and Sugary sex. Sorry it's too tempting to keep you waiting.







That sorted I set off for

Once Around the Lake, and Home for Tea

The sun came out and my feet started to itch. Time to ride the bike. Temperatures reached 22C or so I think, and almost a clear blue sky, for most of the day anyway. I'm writing this with a small Jagermeister at my elbow. Just the one. The windows are open to let a breeze in. No chance. It is utterly calm.

Lake Vattern is a big lake. Circumnavigating it for a day seemed a good idea. I set off south to Jonkoping and got the city section at the head of the lake out of the way. Then Jane and I argued as she tried repeatedly to get me onto the highway. Elsa and I were having none of it and pootled alonge the lake shore road to just north of Granna. It's a tourist destination with a ferry across to the large island in the middle of the lake. For the morning we explored every nook and cranny ignoring Janes "turn around when possible", and a slightly truculant "Recalculating!". The lake is 190 miles around. Something I didn't know before setting out. Jane could have told me, but I didn't ask. For the most part it is stunningly beautiful and unspoilt. Very clean and with great little cafe's ad lakeside restaurants. The day passed more quickly than the miles, and what was an AM dawdle, became a PM push to eat miles in time for tea. Getting tired and hot with Motala under my belt, including waiting at the barriers while four sailing boats (yaghts. I almost forgot) floated through on their way to Gothenburg I imagine. Down the west shore and through Karlsborg, which is picturesque, and on finally to revisit Hjo again. This time for petrol and a carton of milk. Life in the fast lane.

Back to base, feet up, pot on. Nice cup of tea to finish the day. Apart from meeting Ernst and Lars to agree my departure day. Mmm. Maybe something I said. I am optomistic because Swedish friends have not yet organised my leaving party :-)

If this sounds like a slow news day. It is, and I'm very pleased with that. It is just what the doctor ordered. More sunshine tomorrow please.

Mid Summer 2011

We celebrate nature. The sun at it's highest. In the north it is important. Religions coming out of the middle east wouldn't have understood that. Our winters are long, and our summers short. Like bees we are busy when the sun shines. The winters were dangerous for our ancestors. At Yule they at last knew the sun would begin its journey back another year. In the winter, candles to banish the dark. Stories to tell around the fire. Mid summer should be dancing and laughter.

The weather is the weather and it was changable as it has been for weeks all across northern Europe. Sunshine and showers. At the criticle moment to set up at Domsand it rained. No blue sky to be seen, so we set up under canvas. The warmth of the people and their company makes up for the poor weather easily. Actually here is a thought. There is no bad weather, just the wrong clothes! The rain is also good for the crops.

I put a bottle of scotch on the table that didn't taste great with the herring. It got drank anyway. Schnapps is best though. There was dancing. Mainly the girls, but especially after a few drinks I cannot resist. Doing the frog dance around the phalus of leaves always makes me laugh.

The hangover was impressive, so why the hell did I only score LOW on the alcohol meter? If this is what it feels like to be sober it is over rated. Another thought. Most traffic accidents are caused by sober people. Scary!

As I recover from our celebration, in a tiny village in central England with it's little medieval church, friends are preparing for the annual pig roast. No mention of mid summer. Maybe it's too far south, but the principle is the same. Celebrate the light.

Effulgent Fagerhult

Pardon the spelling please.

There is a huge factory on the other side of the highway. It produces light fittings. That I knew. It is also called Fagerhult. If I have understood correctly it is also a leading producer of solar panels internationally. Sweden bringing light to the world.

Two days of rest sleeping eleven hours a day. Gentle strolls in the forest. The lake is some way off at this point on the shore line. I walked 45 minutes and didn't get there. I'll do it another day with a packed lunch and a flask of hot tea.

Nothing biker to report. After 11 hundred miles Elsa and I are having some time off. What I have actually been doing is sorting myself out. Getting settled into this great little cabin, and putzing about. It included hanging out with Ernst who has the whole week off. We actually laid some new flooring in the showers at VMCK camping. Janne's idea. Not ours. Life is about the little things just now. You know? I might just get some writing done this trip.

Midsummer party tomorrow. I'd better get some more sleep.

Fagerhult

Fagerhult. A beautiful clearing in a forest, and that is what it is. I get ahead of myself though. The last fifty kilometers north to Jonkoping on the old road, I really dropped into the groove. The right hand side of the road is fine. It doesn't change my hamdling, and today it is very much on! At last, even fully laden Elsa and I are in tune. I feel the impatience to arrive, and imagine she does as well.

I am meeting Ernst at the club house at Domsand, for him to lead me in to my accommodation for the summer, and of course to meet the owner, Lars. Being on the lane leading to the club house feels wonderful. I waltz Elsa a few times, making sweeping S's amongst last years pine cones. I didn't whoop. That would have been very un English. I thought about it though.

The little cottage (cabin) is warm and cosy. It is tastefully decorated and well equiped. Small but perfectly formed. It is the perfect retreat here with beautuful views of Lake Vattern. As soon as I had looked around the place, I know how it is to be. I will be OK here. I am in the right place for a while. Ernst and Lars leave me to unload Elsa and unpack. Lars couldn't be more helpful, offering his garage for the bike. Another day when I am confident of not dropping her on the igledy pigldey steeply sloping cinder drive maybe.

It won't be long before I sleep, but first I have a meeting that I have been aware of for some hours now. I have had wonderful company for days now, and I am feeling good. I have laughed at times and been genuinely happy. I knew my grief would be waiting for me in this place, and so it is. It's OK. I'm ready. Never hate your grief. It is proof that we love.

Tomorrow is another day. Face the sun and drink deeply of life.

Taking the Slow Road

The pack set off in the rain, heading for the first ferry across to Denmark. Five of us linger. It is a hard days ride from here to Jonkoping. Osten and I are just not up for the slog. Three others have places to see and a reluctance to end this delightful trip. We ride the coast north of Kiel in the rain, stopping to admire a German U Boat. It gets quite windy in the afternoon as we cross onto the island of Fehmarn. It's a German Baltic resort on a cold, wet and windy afternoon. Five bikes in quiet procession, riding into the headwind. What do you do? Ich Mochter ein Grossen Beir von Fasse bitte!!! Pardon my German spelling. It is actually worse than my English. Despite uninspiring weather and a modern resort Ernst found one of the best dinners I've had this year. "Jungschwiencottlet". Two full plates of young pork to get my teeth into. I really like eating here!

Earnst leaves us At Rodby after the German booze shopping expedition. The duty free shop is a very large "Ship", anchored waiting for thirsty Scandinavians (and Brit who can find room for a couple of bottles more). Four of Us go on the a youth hostel in the Copenhagen area, and a trully memorabe evening in an amusement park. The roller coaster was something I would have swarn I wouldn't do. Birtel, Christian and I climbed on board and the train started it's trundle up to the highest point, ready to plunge down into the bowels of this very rickety looking old wooden fairground ride. In our minds we yelled in a manley way enhancing the fun of the ride. In truth we squealed like girls apparently. The photo presented to us supports the view that what we experienced was sheer terror!

The ride back up Sweden to jonkoping was very nice indeed. Thanks to Birtel for a trully great alternative route. By the end I was ready to arrive. I have been on my way back to Jonkoping for a year in a way. I could feel the anticipation building like a physical thing in my chest.

The Anglo Saxons

There is a ruddy great larder fridge in the corridor stacked full of excellent local beer that Carsten does not allow to run low. The dinner table groans under the weight of meat. Our wonderful host believes vegetables are for feeding to the live stock, which we eat later.

To top this hospitality Carsten jumps onto his motorbike and treats our huge biker party to a guided tour of the Anglo Saxon home land. I think I counted 25 bikes of all shapes and sizes, rumbling through junctions, stopping traffic which for the most part seemed to enjoy the free show. Friendly waves and smiling faces from children. This small area at the base of the Jutland penisula was home to the emigrating tribes who displaced the native British from what is now England. Jutes, Angles, Saxons, Friese, leaving a land miserable with starvation in the fifth century. A blood test would show that I am around 60% Welsh. Today I am a returning Saxon, open mouthed at the similarity of this place to my native England. The ride out must have included the town of Tonning because we stopped to admire the Eider Barrage, very similar the the one on the Thames. Rendsburg must also have featured for I think that is where we saw the suspended cable ferry. The thing is, today I am a follower. Just one of a crowd, and delighted to be.

Wings, Pans, Flat 6's, Three beemers, a Blackbird, Vstroms, Yamahas one from the seventies with a chair on it, Suzzies. We make me smile guys. It's not what you ride, or how you ride it. What is important is that we ride, and it makes us smile a lot.

The following day, Saturday was pretty much a wash out, but such is life. There are plenty of sausages and beer to be had, so we do that instead. We are using the accomodation dorm style. Rooms full of bikers. Ear plugs are more essential during the night than on the bikes.

Carsten. Thank you for being a fine host. What you do has inspired me. I'll let you know how it goes. Janne & Ernst. Thank you for organising a great holiday and including me.

A magic Moment? Eating a crusty shrimp sandwich, the wind in my face as I look out over the North Sea. I can imagine the Viking Longboats setting sale loaded with the flatpack furniture!

Mons Klint

My one day stay on this tiny island worked very well indeed. Thanks to Henrik and Anna for the suggestion. Blue skies and white cliffs. Dinner was out of tns at the hostel, but having a table on the lawn overlooking the lake was very nice indeed.

Thursday morning on the road in the drizzle, riding for the Rodby ferry. 2:30 saw me sneaking into the garden at B&B Dannewirke to slide into a seat next to Janne and the others. Warm reunions with all too many to mention all by name just here. A beer in hand and the afternoon and evening are set. So much catching up to do.

Ferry To Rodby

Today I take the short ride to Mons Klint. Hostel accommodation is confirmed so hopefully this evening I will explore the white cliffs with the camera.

Tomorrows routs is via the ferry to Rodby. It is the ferry I used last year on my return leg across Germany. Meeting up with he bikers from Sweden, the experience has no choice but to be very different to last year. Pictures soon.

Cab Inn

The concept is interesting with this budget chain of hotels. The rooms are tiny. They are ferry cabins reconstructed. They are exactly ferry cabins, and work wonderfully. My cabin is indeed tiny, but it works really well, and at about half the price of a tourist hotel, I am happy.

I did fork out for secure parking though. As I rode up on Sunday evening a couple were sorting through the mess of having their car broken into and robbed. It is rare apparently but I simply cannot afford to take the chance with Elsa this early in the trip. It costs a packet in the centre of Copenhagen, but hey ho.

Via Bob I am booked into the Danhostel at Mons Klint for Wednesday. Mon is a small island of shore south east of Copenhagen. It is supposed to be very beautiful. It will leave me with a mighty schlepp back across Denmark and down into Germany to join up with the guys of VMCK, but I'm up for it, no problem. I can smell the meat roasting on the barbecue on Thursday night already.

The Mermaid and the Netto Boat

Elsa and Satnav Jane have two days off to sleep. I worry that Elsa is not right after her major repair. It is probably just my nervousness, but I'll keep an eye on the old war horse. Bob is plugged into the net and doing his jobs. Accommodation, communication, navigation and planning, playing music to relax to, and the magic of Skype letting me see the faces of friends. I am never alone thanks to this wonderful little Droid. Vatta dips in and out. Sometimes here, but often not.

A long morning walk to explore the parks and city, and a chance stumbling onto Nyhavn where the canal tourboats go from. I can hear Andreas' telling me about hese boats over a pizza. "Use the Netto one it is much cheaper and does exactly the same". Mearsk (can't remember the spelling) is the biggest shipping company in the world, and it's HQ building of a thousand blue eyes dominates. A mysterious black yaght, huge against the key, has been there a long time. It is rumoured to belong to a Russian oligarc.

I have the landmarks of the city down now, and a long walk back to the hotel is easy in the cloudy sunshine. I might get wet today. Don't care.

House boats on the canal look fun. I wonder if I can get one onto the Blythe?

Elephant Parade

They look very familiar although I have never seen them before. Plastic sculptures on the streets. Each elephant identical in form, but acting as a canvas for a unique picture. It reminds me of Cow Parade in Zurich many years ago, and well it should. It is the same and makes me smile. New but familiar, just like Copenhagen. It is a city you can fall in love with. If I had business her I would stay, content for a long time. Some places are like this. Zurich is the same. Note to self: Deffinately visit Stockholm this trip.

The morning I spent time with the reunion with Andreas. Lots of smiles. His company is easy. His Greek colleague Lina (Leena?) was utterly charming and mentioned Transition Towns. A concept I must look into. More of that later I bet. Lina had to stop work at 1 pm and I had a city to see. That she should guide me on the start of my tour was perfect. Thank you very much fair lady.

Christianhavn in the afternoon and time to watch the world go by. Back to my hotel for a quick rest and back to the bike hire place to hook up with Andreas for dinner. Catching up a whole year in an evening over a beer or two. An extra beer from the young guys who could drink no more.

My mood is much improved. Being on the road, new challenges and reunions is better than any medicine.

Land of the Ravens

Sunshine and showers across Jutland, but I don't care. Elsa's electric wind shield keeps it off me. Satnav Jane is trying out her Danelish on road names. She is funny without knowing it. Saturday late afternoon and a wonderful warm welcome from Henrik, Anna and family. Your house and hospitality are very warm indeed. Thank you for preparing me so nicely for my onward journey. Beach woods behind the house, and an evening strole around their own little piece of woodland. I am SO jealous guys!

Sunday morning passed easy in the company of these new friends. Then onto the Beemer and dawdling away towards Copenhagen. I won't pass by without saying hello. Promise. Callanish one year maybe? Do the stones and the whole new age pagan experience. I have a good English biker companion who would be up for it also I think, if he is not fighting fires. The sun is shining and it's a great afternoon to ride.

5.45 PM into the quiet centre of Copenhagen. Perfect. I have already extended my stay here following instructions from Sue!! I also have a map with Andreas' cycle shop loction, so I'm sorted for another reunion in the morning. Tuesday is for sightseeing. Time to get some shut eye, eventuelt.

The North Sea

Lunch with Paul. Thanks for the sausage sandwiches mate. You read my mind. See you on the way home maybe.

No sooner into the boarding queue at Harwich than three Swedish trucker bikers spotted my Abisco sticker. A thoroughly good one day cruise was assured at that point. Anders, Per, and Andreas were returning to Gothenburg from a one week blast around Scotland. There was also a large BMW group off to tour the Norwegian fjords. I got an informal invite to join up. Wonderful, but I'm very happy with the plans I have, even if the Yorkshire lass riding the Aprilla was very nice indeed, as well as funny. Thanks for making me smile a lot. I settled down to a few beers with the Swedish guys, talked about trucking, bikes, and life in Sweden. There is a reasonable chance we will meet up again over the summer. A rally. A visit by them to Bankeryd, or me to Gothenburg. It's good when it works like this.

Yikes. My spell checker changed to Danish!

Heading Out

Elsa stands ready under the Oak tree. My new droid Bob slumbers in the luggage for a couple of days. (Origins of Bob are explained in my goofy blog "Bombay Mix". Go to Nordkapp blog, click on "view my complete profile", and there it is). Vatta is a silent passenger also no surprise. He will rouse later I am sure. Satnav Jane has her destinations for today and tomorrow. Harwich today via Paul and Becky for lunch in Cambridgeshire. I'm actually feeling under the weather. Something I ate or just the jitters hitting my stomach. Who knows. I'll take it easy to the boat and get some rest before Denmark tomorrow lunchtime.

Tomorrow I have a short ride north to Henrik and his family. I'm looking forward to face to face instead of our excellent email conversations. Sunday I ride over to Copenhagen for a few days. I'm currently scheduled to leave the capital on Tuesday, having got together with Andreas on Monday. I'm already thinking I may stay an extra day for sightseeing.

Thursday 16th I meet up with the VMCK riders in North Germany for a club road trip for a few days. I'm looking forward to seeing familiar faces very much indeed. It doesn't seem a year since we rode together. But here at home our last few months seem to have been a very long time indeed. Such is the human condition.

No posts until Sunday evening at my hotel in Copenhagen. See you then.

Ready to Ride

The bike is loaded and backed into the garage ready for lift off. The droids are all charged and functioning. I even found space for my favourite three berth tent for the MC rallies. I may have a fiddle around again in the morning to see if I can get a decent airbed and electric pump on board. The big bike is very forgiving.

Elsa has a new front tyre which is not scrubbed in, so no acrobatics before Huntingdon. She also has new front break pads. Stopping is good. All systems tested. Ready to roll.

I'm torn. I am keen to be moving, and enthusiastic about seeing friends again. I smile just thinking of the reunions. But I'm also leaving with a heavy heart. Mums house is on the market. Our family home where my little sister and I were both born. A happy garden filled with kids every summer. My sister is sad and I hate to leave her. So sorry sis. I really do have to go.

I'll ride out of the village, and there is a vague chance that my journey will take me as far as the Russian border this time. I don't need to decide yet. If it is meant to be it will happen.

Going to Nordkapp?

I am learning more of how on line publishing works these days. I want to write. It should be no surprise that the majority of people finding this blog have never met me. 3300 of you so far. It is a surprise though. I was born before Yuri Gagarin went into space. I was a very small boy when President Kennedy was shot, and I remember my mother crying at the kitchen sink. I am a migrant to the 21st century, where the youngsters are natives. So this post is for all of those people who have stumbled upon my blog this season. If you were looking for information on motorcycling to Nordkapp and ended up here you could well be confused, having found the ramblings of a slightly crazy Englishman. Let me help you out.

I rode to Nordkapp in June/July 2010, safely and alone. Check out my earliest posts. Read from oldest through to August 2010. Read, learn the lessons from my mistakes and go. GO, and have a wonderful time. Don't let the fact that most of the North Sea ferries are cancelled because of the financial mess we are all experiencing put you off. It is a wonderful journey. A genuine adventure. I travelled alone, but in truth had company half of the time, especially at the very moment I arrived at the cape. Two riders coming out of the mist to join me. Hospitality along the way that you would not believe. DO IT. GO.

My story is real though, and unlike fiction the story goes on after the adventure, and that is what this blog has become going forward another season. Fetching the groceries. Cleaning the house. Wondering what the hell I am doing now. Life goes on. What I am writing now may end up being interesting in its own right. It is about what happens to a guy when going to Nordkapp changed his life. Here is a thought. Every friend you ever had was at first a stranger. Be nice to strangers. Some of them are friends you haven't met yet. After a lousy winter, I could do no other but to set off again. In two days I will throw my leg over my BMW R1200RT and head on back to Scandinavia. I have ice in my veins now from the north.

If you should meet the Norwegian Police along the way, make sure that it is not under circumstances where they are writing you a speeding ticket. You really don't want to go there. If you do go to Nordkapp, drop me a comment. Let me know you did it and how you got on. Ride safely and keep both wheels on the black stuff.

I imagine sitting around camp fires with Viking friends, but the truth is almost certainly hot dogs and strong coffee at service stations, all bitching about our poor old knees.

Two Blogs

If you haven't already found it, I have another blog called Bambay mix. Both blogs are now active at the same time. Nordkapp is about what I do this summer in Scandinavia. Bombay mix is more about what I am thinking and feeling. It is a collection of unrelated ideas. Dip in. Comment and I'll share. To get to Bombay Mix click on "view my complete profile" then select Bombay Mix.

Vatta

Vatta is my alter ego. Last year I wrote about my virtual team. Satnav Jane, Elsa the big red BMW motorcycle, Vatta and I. Vatta is sweet, thoughtful, dreamy, magical, and completely crazy. When he is piloting Elsa they make poetry together. Vatta loves Elsa, and I think it is he who found the ghost in the machine. Vatta isn't sensible or serious, ever. He causes most of the problems that I am the author of, and he usually solves them as well, but in his own weird way. If I don't have work to do, or a book to read, I write this stuff. We play sometimes.

Six days to go. Vatta is quiet. I leave him alone with his sadness, hoping he will snap out of it soon. If not he will travel with us as a passenger in the hope that he will heal along the way. Satnav Jane and Elsa are ready. Elsa just needs a new front boot, to be fitted on Tuesday. I am almost there myself. Tired but OK.

I caught Vatta weaving something furtively this morning. It was a reality patch. He used one last year to make the helicopter ride which replaced the Norwegian speeding fine on the approach to Nordkapp. It's his magic. Worryingly when he realised I was paying attention he slipped it into a small biscuit tin and closed the lid. Not before I saw that his tin was full of them. He has been very busy indeed.

I should be writing this on my new HP Mini, but keep lapsing into old habits. This gas driven desk top is old and familiar. The Mini still feels awkward, but I'll get to know it.