My first transatlantic crossing was in 1966. My mother, Solveig “Sissi” Ina Andersson (later Anders), and I traveled from Los Angeles to Trollhättan. What remains from that first trip are not clear scenes but blurry fragments. A room. A bed, or perhaps a sofa bed where my great-grandmother Selma was resting. Me, standing nearby, trying to understand who this old woman was and that we were related somehow.

The route itself: a DC-8 from Los Angeles to Winnipeg, on to Greenland – Søndre Strømfjord, Kangerlussuaq – then Copenhagen. From the Danish capital onward to Göteborg in a Convair CV-440 Metropolitan.

Perhaps that was where it all began. Not a decision, but a condition. A low, steady pull to new places, new experiences.

Someone recently called me restless. It’s not a new diagnosis. It tends to come from those who have chosen stillness, or had it chosen for them. From people who could and should travel but choose not to. It’s hard for me to relate to lethargy. Life is already far too short for me to allow procrastination to determine my destiny.

For me, movement has always carried meaning. The mild disorientation of arrival, the spontaneous conversations, negotiations with the unfamiliar, the demand to stay alert and at the top of my game – all of it sharpens something that everyday life gradually dulls. I feel more present when I’m away. Less inclined to drift. Focused. Inspired. Creative.

I’ve come to think of it as my “Happy Island” theory. Always having something ahead – a place, a departure, even a modest shift in scenery – makes the in-between mundanity easier to carry. The routines, the obligations, the parts of life that resist change and have that gravitational pull that some love and others resist.

These days, it doesn’t have to be far. Marseille or Vänersborg. The scale matters less than the direction. The act of going is enough.

I took the image above while waiting for a train to Cannes at Marseille’s station. Another pause. Another transition. Exactly where I tend to feel most at home. On the road to somewhere.