The only now living person north of the South Pole that have walked upon all sandy beaches longer than 2 kilometers in Sweden and some other countries. My bare feet know the best beaches better than they know their own socks.

Sometimes I look on my back at the beach in Akkers Brygge in Oslo. Pictured by the very best photographer, Kristian Jøraandstad.

Sometimes I look back not on my back but on all the beaches my feet has touched and sensed. It’s not always a walk in the park. I walk up to 30 kilometers a day, 500 kilometers in one summer. Without socks and without a roof. It’s a tough job. But someone need to do it. Or?

BödaBeachWalker

Getting ready with the T-shirt on the head way

The obligatory sand sample

At work

The entrance to the paradise mad out of the sandiest of sand.

Why not turn your head a bit to the side? Maybe because you look stupid. But you don’t. Nobody else is there.

I am not a nudist. Normally that is.

Proof of the naked Beach Walker. Drying without a towel in the sun is so much sun.

My Mexican naked beach dog with fur Pippi  is my best co-walker.

My future wife Charlotte and my youngest beach daughter Vanessa Sandy Beach awaits me.

Pippi back in our Beach House.

Watch out for the feather weight. The wind is strong this very day. Not even the birdiest birds can keep their feathers on.

Beachlove is all the love you need sometimes. Michael Douglas fell in love with Sudersand a couple of years ago. I did just that before Mr Michael did. Sudersand has been on the top ten list of the best beaches in the world several times.

Sandy beach volleyboll. It’s the best beach activity accept from walking and talking and stalking. Many years ago I played with friends for many hours and suddenly remembered that I needed to be on a ferry from Visby 5 hours later. I borrowed an old military bike without gears and cycled 60 kilometers with a ”väldans” heavy back pack back on my back. Throwback back in the hoods.

No offence on this fence

The very end of Sudersand

AB – After Beach. At the best restaurant in Fårö, Fårögården.

This picture is shot almost inside a ”Rauk”. If you are not from Sweden. You do not posses a Rauk in your country. Not one.

This beach is very secluded and nicer than nice this very day.

Some people are strolling along here naked. One of them looked att me in what seemed to be a in very interested way. Ha wore a grey beard. His colleague next to him did not.

Jellyfish. Not very common on Gotland. It survived the steps by Beachwalker. Step by step.

Since sandy beaches on islands is not part of the Beachwalker project. I am not following my regular rules driving a convertible. So on this Gotland island tour I used a used Ferrari 612 Scaglietti. It is extraordinary in many ways but built for greater roads than these in Gotland. Frankly, it will be more than ok to switch to the more comfortable and environmental nice Audi e-tron when I get back to Fårö.

Katthammarsviks Rökeri. Very väldans great smoke’n hot fish and other swimming kind of things. The fish soup. Is the best south of the North pole.

It doesn’t get any better beachwalking conditions than this. A vehicle from Paradise transfers the sand into yellow cotton.

This is the vehicle from Paradise. Beach Paradise that is.

I could hardly believe my eyes entering this very surface.

There are almost always a camping kind of environment close to the Swedish beaches. Here. A new house. And a neighbouring old version of the Viking version of  how Indians used to live…

This place/beach can be translated into english/beachlish as ”River memory”. It is nice in an ok way but not so much nice as more than ok.

This is a Beachwalker’s daymare. A thistle. Or many of them, six under the feet.

This is the way these beachy little bastards look like. Sooooo innocent.

The ”River memory” beach. With wood I wood say.

This camping next to the beach has a pool. With a roof that is. We are in Sweden.

It is a beautiful day. Mid august. And almost everything is closed at every beach in Gotland. Shame on you next to the beach establishments…

Tofta beach south of Visby in Gotland is one of the local famous and very popular beaches. To me, it was a bit of a disappointment as I remembered it as wider and more of a caribbean style

Not som many interesting objects to view while strolling along the beach. But this tower is kind of nice. As in a Fellini film.

If you like to sun in the sun. You like cinnamon buns. Advertising at it’s beach best.

I am abandoning the convertible rule on this island. Trying the Audi A3 e-tron with a sun roof. Very nice and a bit strange  to drive on electricity in silence all the way to the beach this time.

After beach at Själsö Bakery. The sunset here is better than in Finland.

The golden entrance to the Hammer of Sand…

Immediately my feet knocks on my bare shoulder and says. This is good Senjår Beachwalker…

The glove is thrown. 

This is what the best looks like…

A journalist from the local newspaper is very happy that I am very happy about her beach…

Early in he morning.

The elephant walker in not in sight

This morning light never ends or ends or ends. At all…

I wish…

The local newspaper strolls with me along the long beach…

The last one in Sweden greets me with a light made in Åhus…

Gäss!

Neither me or the sea can sea the ship…

Done

Falsterbo. This Falsterbo thing is nice in such a nice way…

Le Pen was here. Probably the gigant version of Le Pen…

If you do the walk. You walk the talk.

The end of the Falsterbo beach. From now on the birds are in charge…

My co-flower

It’s late. 30 kilometers in heavy sand today. As tired as wheels with tires…

Beddingestrand, a nicelinice long beach.

Someone thought she was a smarter and faster beachwalker than me. 11.3 seconds later she did not think so anymore. To be sure I asked her. She said. I don’t think so…

This was a very nice beachwaling kind of couple. They recognized me from the local newspaper. I bragged for a while. They walked home…

My friends Niclas and Johanna let me borrow their beach house in Beddingestrand. Kind of chair-ity…

If you are the only one left to surf. Go to the left…

Looking for a spot forgotten by wind. So I can talk to a journalist without blow whistling…

I did not predict this. At all I did not predict this….

Typical swedish kind of thing that needs some nursing by sand…