From the archives: Spain for the hobby climber

I had started writing this post in December 2020 and never finished it. Apparently my plan had been to write about all climbing destinations I have visited in Spain, but had endurance only for Catalonia. For the rest of the destinations, I just add their names and photos. (I just literally spent an hour going through my photos, and did not even bother to select best ones. And even though this whole blog is about me, I feel kind of selfish posting so many photos of me climbing.) Anyways, better late (and unfinished and bad quality - even part of the text is black) than never...

Here we go, enjoy some flashbacks from 6-12 years ago. Had I know that was the best I got at climbing, would I have enjoyed my achievements even more at the time. The original text:

Somehow I have ended up spending a lot of time in Spain - altogether around 8 months during the past 3 winters. Had I known this, would I have learned more Spanish than just numbers, foods and drinks. (Although already those ones come handy especially in small villages, where people rarely speak English.) 

Naturally I have toured many climbing destinations around Spain. Today, due to corona, I am stuck at home and I feel like looking back to all the great times spent at the crags, guest houses, tapas places and on the road. So I thought to write a summary of what Spain has to offer for the hobby climber like me. (As known, Spain for sure is a mecca for the serious sport climber. Where ever you go, you find random 9As that some local guys set up for themselves.) As climbing trips are not just about climbing, but also about friends, conditions and experiences, this review will admittedly be subjective. 

1. Catalonia

If you fly to Spain from far away, it will most likely be to Barcelona. I absolutely love the city for its variability, architecture, great food and atmosphere, but that is another story. Anyways I recommend spending a few days there, and there are also crags nearby. I visited the well known Montserrat conglomerate towers and Grau dels Matxos, where you can find around 200 routes on blond limestone. I was traveling alone, but it was easy to find climbing partners at the "Rock Climbing Barcelona" Facebook page. 

1.1. Siurana

Accommodation: We stayed in the dorm at Camping Siurana. Although it was freezing cold - it even snowed! - the dorm was comfortably warm with a pellet heater and the kitchen building was survivable with an open fire. There is also a restaurant serving tasty meals, as well as offering laundry service and shower (1-2€) for van people.

Climbing: Although some crags can be accessed by foot from the camping, driving makes things easier. Depending on how the crags are situated, they can be shady / sunny and windy / protected. The climbing style is vertical and technical. I did not find many easy routes worth mentioning, unless you like scary bolted sandbags. I enjoyed most the sunny and warm sector Salt de la Reina Mora (left) that has several friendly 7As. Within a short drive is Arboli, that offers more nice options in the 5-6 grades. 

Life: The little romantic village Siurana is situated on top of a hill. It is perfect for watching the sunset and then going for a dinner at one of the cute restaurants. For grocery shopping one must drive down to Cornudella de Montsant, where you can find also a co-op store with local products and a climbing shop. 

1.2 Margalef

Accommodation: I was lucky to sleep in a friend's fancy van, so I did not experience the climbing hostel Refugi de Margalef other than to find out that it looks nice. 

Climbing: Because we had climbers of different levels in our group, we stayed the whole time at one crag, Espadelles, where we found good routes from 6B to 8B. The conglomerate routes with many pockets are athletic and pretty short, and I really like them! Some routes are accessed from top of a rock pile (that can be adjusted by adding more rocks for shorter climbers). It is also worth visiting the "other" side of the crag called Punta Espadelles for morning sun and cool 6Cs. 

Life: We spent our rest days in Cafe Vernet. They offer WiFi, shower (for 4€ unlimited hot water and a towel) and pub style food. In evenings climbers gather there to drink some beers. Other than that, there is a little supermarket (owned by a friendly lady) and Camping Margalef with a bar and laundry service.

1.3 Montsant

Accommodation: I do not know if there is accommodation actually in La Morera de Montsant (the tiny village nearby the crags), but it is not a long drive from Siurana or Margalef. We parked our van right at the crag's parking lot, although the drive up there was a bit challenging.

Climbing: The half-an-hour hike up to the crag is definitely worth it! The impressive cliff hosts countless great climbs, and is a good pick for climbers of all levels. The routes are same style as Margalef, but longer and friendlier bolted. I recommed walking also a bit further left from the entrace path to find more excellent routes, rather than just climbing the nearest ones. As a bonus, you can enjoy amazing sunsets walking back from the crag.

Life: As noted before, La Morena is not a climbers' centre, but you can find a tiny supermarket and some good restaurants there. 

I think I lost my shoes at that crag ;)

1.4 Rodellar

Accommodation: Refugio Kalandraka is located beautifully overlooking the climbing valley. The dorms are comfortable (do not forget to bring your own pillow and blanket!), showers are accessible to everyone with € coins and there is a common kitchen (again, bring your own cooking gear). It is worth buying a dinner once in a while, too, especially the filling lasagna. 

Climbing: All crags are accessible by walking. When I visited it was hot and we were looking for shady sectors. I found some nice routes, but I think you should climb high 7s in order to fully enjoy the erea. The style is sporty and overhanging with tufas, that I like, but sadly many lower grade routes are already polished. I will definitely return to Rodellar if I someday climb stronger.

Life: The refugio is for sure the social centre, where also van people come to hang out sometimes. In the village there is a tiny shop, but I'd recommed doing main shopping in a bigger supermarket. When I visited 3 years ago there was also a climbing shop, however we never saw it open.

1.5 Abella de la Conca

Accommodation: I spent a few weeks in the absolutely charming Abella Eco-Refugi, that is the perfect quiet place to relax. The small hostel has a comfortable sleeping area, excellent showers, a fully equipped kitchen and a living room. I would recommend arranging climbing partners beforehand, as I ended up spending a few days alone as the only guest.

Climbing: There is (slabby, if I remember correctly) climbing right by the hostel. Most days we ended up driving 1-2 hours to visit different crags, and I found them all excellent with many nice 6s. Camarasa is a local hotspot with over 400 limestone routes. I enjoyd the sectors La Selva and Fashion. El Molino is a small overhanging congloromate crag. Sadly I have not written down the names of the other places, so I cannot recommed them, but there is a lot of climbing info available at the refugio.

Life: There is nothing but a few houses in Abella de la Conca. However, it is convinient to visit supermarkets on the way to/from the crags. 

2. Costa Blanca

3. Chulilla

4. El Chorro

5. Granada

6. Jaén

Dying embryos; closure of a dream

September 2026

Having or not having children is life defining. There is no compromise or going back. Those wanting children and getting them are lucky. Those not wanting children and not getting them are lucky. Unfortunately I have been wanting a child but not getting one. As an attempt to process the issue, I wrote about my first IVF in Albania. (And I got several messages from friends and acquaintances, wanting to share their experiences and opinions. Writing about such a half-taboo issue is welcomed by many.) 

As a recap to today's topic, let's summarize what happened after that failed Albania IVF in 2023. It was supposed to be my only attempt at getting pregnant; that I had firmly decided already before starting the whole process. I spent 2024 and the first half of 2025 looking into adoption and full-time fostering. For me, parenting is not about genetics but about having a life together. It felt like a beautiful idea, being matched with an existing child, also looking for a family like me. Unfortunately I came to a dead end, as both adoption and full-time fostering are practically impossible for single people in Switzerland. However, in the process I got a wonderful part-time foster boy, who spends every second weekend with me. With him I have gotten to experience how fulfilling it is to follow him grow and teach him things. But also the other way around, building a relationship with him has taught me so much. I have also gotten to test how it is like having zero quiet minute for myself, enduring repetitive car play and keeping calm at a melt-down after not getting an ice cream. Seeing how deeply he loves his mother and wanting to experience that, too, led me to turn around.

I went for another IVF attempt in Greece in late 2025. Again preparation diagnostics, over-healthy lifestyle, egg stimulation injections, hope, repeated flights to Athens (climate matters when it matters). It looked really promising, until everything came crashing down when I was told all 5 created embryos PGT-A tested genetically abnormal and were discharged. I spent the following weeks literally laying on my living room floor and crying. At that point, I had spent 3 years believing that a child would bring me happiness, while a childless life would be something I would have to accept as having no other choice. I started therapy to deal with the life crisis, however ended up covering mainly other topics. I had been kind of obsessed with getting a child, similarly to how I used to believe that a marriage would be the key to happiness. Quite a lot of pressure put on an existing or non-existing person, right? Like my own happiness would not be in my own hands. It is hard to describe, but somehow I had been over-pushing, first for a partner and then for a child. This over-idealizing and over-pushing has never brought me what I have wanted. Even as teenager when my obsessive dream was to be a good synchronized skater, I kept failing until I opened my life to other sources of fulfillment, and only then I managed to compete in a team (although at a lower level). 

Easter time 2026 I returned to Greece to do a donor embryo transfer. (How I came to change my mind about the morality of donor embryos would be worth another post.) This time my chances to succeed were high. Before I knew whether I was pregnant or not, I took a bus from Greece to Albania for a few days of holiday. I went to the compound of my original IVF clinic in Tirana and sat in a cafe outside of it for a couple of hours, looking at patients going in a out, feeling the clinic's energy. I had dreaded going back to where the dream had started, as I thought it may be triggering. But instead I felt empowered; the doctor, the nurses and the embryologist had done their uttermost best to help me. All those visits had been filled with hope. Without the clinic, I would not have gotten a shot to try to realize my dream or motherhood. When I returned home the pregnancy test was negative. Of course I was sad, but I did not crash down. I just simply wanted to enjoy life. I enjoyed going running, having drinks with my friends, completing interesting work tasks. I just enjoyed life. 

For the first time, slowly, I have started feeling childless life as an equally exciting option. Of course, I have told myself numerous times that it is well possible to be happy also without children, but knowing and feeling are two different things. Not having a materialized alternative life is not helping. My current life has nothing to complain about, but it is quite flat and lacking a passion like climbing used to be. (I wrote about it, too. Must be mid-life crisis, as I am not the only one in my friends circle feeling the same way.) In a way, having a child would be an easily defined life purpose for the next few decades. It would certainly bring along enough change and challenges. On the contrast, creating a purposeful childless life requires more creativity on finding out what will drive me going into the future. If I have learned anything, it is that obsessing and pushing do not work. So I enjoy the small things right now - sleeping peacefully, jumping into the river when it is too hot, drinking a cappuccino - until the next life project, whatever it will be, shows up. I have re-created my life once before, around 10 years ago when I knew I wanted something different but not exactly what. (Wrote about that, too.) If I have done it once, I can do it again. I am actually pretty excited about what is to come.

There is still one more available donor embryo in Greece. I have not decided yet, whether I want to try to transfer it or not. Either I go for one last try or save the 4000EUR and use it on luxus train trips and sports courses that I would not do otherwise. I feel calm, as both options are fine. I no longer have to make a decision out of desperation. I'm convinced that when I am 60, 70, 80, I can look back and say I truly tried my best when I was 40, no need to regret anything. Child or no child, my life is fine. 

October 2026

I went for that last donor embryo transfer. I had a lovely weekend in Athens, calmly saying goodbye to the IVF clinic and my favorite spots in the city. I felt I was finally closing that chapter in my life, peacefully, not because I could not try anymore but because I do not want to. I even bought a beautiful designer water pot as a souvenir of my IVF journey (an idea from ChatGPT, what else). Two weeks later, on a Monday morning I saw two lines in the pregnancy test! It felt like a dream fulfillment meant to be; I had stopped over-pushing on my very last attempt, and it worked out! However, some nights I woke up thinking whether I had gone too far in realizing my dream. I would be an old single mother, earning just one income, and bringing into this world a person that wouldn't get to know her/his genetic origins. But each morning I felt reassured; what would happen would be the right thing. 

I got to enjoy 4 weeks of being pregnant. I googled the embryo's weekly development, dug out my old name ideas and proudly shopped pregnancy-safe items. At the same time, I was surprised at how little I thought about the pregnancy. During the 4 years of trying to conceive I had always imagined that being pregnant would make everything else meaningless. Instead I still lost myself in interesting conversations and got annoyed when practical things went wrong (like when I accidently took a wrong train and ended up touring around for additional 6 hours). Although I had been extremely cautious, knowing how fragile early pregnancies are, I went to my 8 week scan happily waiting to see my embryo's heartbeat. Instead I saw its empty place. The embryo itself had died weeks ago. 

Now, almost a week later, I am burning candles in the memory of a 2mm big blob of cells. And in the memory of my big dream of having a baby. I am crying, but I am also so bored of this. Always negative tests and dead embryos, like there was nothing else sad in this life. At least now I am done with this, I never have to try again, and my next drama will be something different. 

Photos from Athens. I grew to like the city during my 5 IVF trips there.

Herm, an island where time stays still (my ghost story)

Growing up, I was conditioned to thinking that believing in ghosts is silly. Why actually? Just like God, they are spirits, invisible to mortals, sending their signs to the earth through mysterious channels. A few weeks ago I visited an exhibition about ghosts at the Kunstmuseum Basel, where I was definitely getting the chills nearby old ghost catchers' equipment. That inspired me to write down my own ghost story.

Let's jump back to year 2006. It was spring and I was a second year university student, trying to juggle studying, Student Union involvement, competitive synchronized skating and excessive partying. On top of everything, I needed to organize myself a job for the long summer semester break. Through a web portal matching youngsters and seasonal jobs in the UK I got an offer to work at a gift shop. Since it was a UK postal code, I accepted the offer. As June approached and I finally checked where to fly, I found out I was going to spend my summer on Herm, a tiny Channel Island between the UK and France. When I write tiny, I really mean tiny. The distance walking around the whole coastline of the car-free island is just 6km. With its picturesque beaches, cute eateries and an old-style grand hotel, it is a loved summer destination to may local vacationers. 

Completely ignorant of the island's history, I settled in my room upstairs of an old stone building. After a week or so, I had a very vivid dream that kept haunting me also in the daylight, despite being busy selling beach appliances and souvenirs to crowds of people arriving and leaving with the ferry. I still remember the dream of someone, probably a woman, strangling my throat as I was sleeping. It was such a suffocating feeling that I made sure to lock my door every night after (as if dreams cared about locks). As I became better friends with the other youngsters working the various summer jobs on the island, one of them asked where I live. As I pointed out my room in Pinetrees, he casually mentioned, "Ah, the haunted room. Has the ghost visited you yet? An old tale tells, a woman was strangled to death in that room." I stayed in the room, kept locking the door, and avoided any more nightly visitors. Only once, quite a bit later, I was waked up by the full moon that pulled me outside for a walk alone in the middle of the night. 

The house of my ghost

The summer went by; working, running around the island, drinking snake-bytes, gossiping, taking the ferry to Guernsey on my days off. When I flew back to Finland in the autumn, the quiet island life had recovered my student burnout. Quite soon other experiences took over and I hardly thought about Herm anymore. Until last summer in 2025, 19 years later, my intuition called me to visit the island again. Train, Brussels, train, Paris, train, St Malo, ferry, Guernsey, ferry, Herm, and there I was again, this time exhausted from over-performing on my holidays. I had booked a room at the White House hotel, which I had considered so up-scale and fancy when we youngsters had sneaked out the back way to the tennis court (that we were allowed to use when there were no hotel guests). This time I was paying guest, and all I wanted to do was to sit in the beautiful garden and read a book - to immerse the quietness, the still time of the island. 

After taking a long, luxurious bath I felt ready to explore again. First I headed to the gift shops, and to my pleasure everything was almost exactly like before. Even the outdoor baskets for beach balls were the same ones as 19 years ago! Then I let my memory guide me "home from work", up the hill, through an old courtyard, straight to the right building. A woman with a coffee cup was sitting outside on the stairs of my old home. I introduced myself as an old Herm summer worker and we got into talking. Yes, the food at the staff cafeteria was still uneatable, and youngsters still entertained themselves by getting drunk, hooking up with each other and gossiping about it. It turned out she lived exactly in my old room, and she even let me take a look inside, where nothing - including the leaking bath tub shower head - had changed. It was time to ask about the ghost. Luckily she had not been strangled at sleep. But she explained that at a certain spot on the way to Belvoir Bay she always felt the air cooling, like a sudden gust of wind, and something unexplainable present. She did not believe in ghosts, either. 

The gift shop - still the same!

This time around I was more interested in learning about the Herm Island. It was occupied by German forces during the second world war, and used for landing exercises, propaganda film shoots and recreational hunting. It has been the base of monks, artists and wealthy landowners. Of course, my main interest laid on ghosts. Herm indeed has a reputation with myths and legends, including several ghost stories and haunted locations, that are presented in story books and specific Haunted Herm tours. However, I did not find anything about the Pinetrees building or a strangled woman during my search. Maybe it was just a legend orally passed on between seasonal workers. What I still find strange, though, is that I experienced it before hearing anything about it. 

Unfortunately I could spend only two days on Herm. Despite the short stay I time-travelled almost 20 years back to still being a young staff member. It almost felt weird leisurely lounging at the gated hotel area, and I could have expected to be called to work anytime. Ghosts or no ghosts, Herm is a magical place where time stays still and I could feel the presence of those before us, and my old self, more clearly than elsewhere. Or maybe it was just the quietness that invited me to stop, listen and feel. 

Stock taking on my 2020 goals

What a cliche - time flies! I remember well sitting on the couch in the climbing refugio in El Chorro writing down my 2020 goals (post). And now it is suddenly 5 years later. I have to admit, I currently suffer with a mid-life crisis on many frontiers and look back to those last climbing dirtbagging days with pink glasses of nostalgia. Somehow I feel that the times when I jumped into new and explored - lived! - are over for good. I achieved what I did, missed out on things not reversible anymore, and ended up where I am now to continue until I die (yes, expressed rather dramatically). 

Well, let's see what I planned and where I am now regarding those goals. 

#1 Settle down (in Switzerland) CHECK

By the time Covid hit, I had secured myself a good job at a company I had always wanted to work for. I rented a big, beautiful apartment in Zürich and bought my own furniture, and smoothed through the couple of years of lockdowns. Then I left Switzerland to work in Albania and Laos, and returned to another good job.

I am currently living in picturesque Luzern. What I have realized about integrating into the Swiss life is that it is integrating as being an immigrant. No matter whether I will get the citizenship in a few years, I will always be considered a welcomed foreigner. This is fine for me, as my identity is a Finn living in Switzerland anyways. 

TBD: I wrote I wanted good friends. I had some before I left to work abroad, but since being back I miss close connections nearby my home. It would be lovely to spontaneously invite a good friend over for a glass of wine. As I have learned before, finding close friends cannot be forced but is often a matter of luck, so all I can do is get out where people are and hope for the best.

#2 Grow professionally (among international development) CHECK

I could not be more satisfied. No need to rewrite, as I have a separate post about this. 

TBD: The international development sector is in a deep crises. I am grateful for every extra month I get to keep my job, and then it will be time to move on. 

#3 Climb better (send 7Bs) NO CHECK

This is so sad. The trip where I wrote those goals ended up being my last proper climbing trip. My climbing motivation vanished alongside with Covid and never returned. I still train half-heartedly at the gym, because it is a good way to stay fit, but I no longer have any drive to try hard to reach my limits. 

Looking back, where I thought I had plateaued was actually my peak. That one 7B will forever stay the only one I ever managed, luckily in addition to numerous 7As. Now I project my old warm-ups and barely get up 6As. Even if I had the physical ability to climb somewhat harder, I am too afraid to take falls outdoors. Even writing this makes me feel bitter. I have not lost only a great hobby and a reason to travel, but also a part of my identity and belonging to a global community. 

TBD: In the past years I have climbed a few super easy multipitches and alpine routes. Although I still have many technical skills to learn and my head game is off, maybe easy long routes will be my future piece of cake.

#4 Learn German (Swiss German) CHECK(ish)

I have been lucky to have mostly German speaking jobs, where my progression with the language has been guaranteed. Although I must admit I have gotten rather lazy to keep improving my grammar, I keep picking up new words as I go along. 

However, that applies to German. Swiss German is another story. After taking a beginners course and listening to some podcasts and TV series, I can understand around half of what is being spoken. The combination that I speak German myself (with an accent) and do not yet understand everything makes Swiss speak to me in German, which in turns makes learning Swiss German impossible. 

TBD: Maybe I can convince my new best friends (see goal #1) to speak to me in Swiss German.

Now, let's get back to the midlife crisis. I was actually a bit surprised about how boring my 2020 goals were; all about finding stability and security. That is what I did indeed, set up a "serious life" in Switzerland, but I also ended up living in Albania and Laos, as well as taking the biggest risk of my life by trying to get a child as a single mother. So I cannot really say I lacked changes and challenges during the past 5 years.

I am starting the second half of the 2020 decade childless (post), without any specific passion or anything substantial to improve. I think this is what scares me. For the next 5 years I wish some motivating projects and ambition to thrive in something completely new! I want to find the courage to let go off what I have been or wanted to become, no matter how hard it is, in order to build an interesting, inspiring rest of my life.

To avoid getting stuck, I write some short new 5 year goals. 

#1 Invest in and/or build something sustainable and profitable

Now I have some boring stock, that is not performing as well as I would wish. I want to get more active and secure myself better retirement funds and maybe even some passive income. 

#2 Discover (or re-discover) a sport I am genuinely excited about

I would love to be psyched about training, improving and reaching goals again! No matter whether I would always remain a beginner, the key is trying hard and battling against myself.

#3 Give back to the community

Assuming I will live until around 80 (fingers crossed!), I am now halfway in my life. Until now it has been all about me and my dreams. I have received and realized so much that now it is time to start benefiting also others around me, and finally become less selfish. 

#4 Get out of my comfort zone

Do anything that feels slightly troublesome (even if it involves going to sleep late), uncomfortable and random, if it also feels interesting and intriguing. Nothing new can be discovered by repeating old things.

The last time I dressed up and partied till 5am at a crazy DJ event. More experiences like that, please!

My journey to (not) becoming a single mother by choice

It had always been my base assumption, that some day I would marry a man and have children with him. Ever since my early 20s I regularly saw beautiful dreams about being pregnant with my own baby. But, years passed and I was busy traveling around and meeting the wrong guys. At the age of 39 I was living in Albania, where the selection of datable men seemed to be even more limited than in Switzerland, and I finally realized I was dangerously running out of time getting a family. One afternoon I was discussing the issue with the girls at the office, and they suggested "Why not use a sperm donor to get pregnant on your own?" 

Being me, I quickly got curious about this option to become a single mother by choice (SMBC). However, before wasting time on further research I wanted to know whether it would even be possible for me to get pregnant. So not long after, I was at the fertility department of the American Hospital, no clue about anything and feeling out of place in my old climbing gym T-shirt, a huge print of a baby staring down at me from the wall. This was the beginning of a journey full of hope and frustration. I was taken to an ultrasound, blood draw and a procedure called HSG. Luckily I had no idea about the HSG, which is often feared as painful, so I just ignorantly went through it and continued straight to work meetings and cocktails afterwards. It turned out everything looked fine, so the doctor asked whether I wanted to start with artificial insemination (IUI) already next week. I responded "Well, let me first figure out whether this is really want I want..." 

I spent the next few months intensively researching the SMBC path; listening to podcasts while cleaning the apartment, reading a few books and numerous online forums, exchanging with experienced SMBCs, calculating budgets on Excel... I went through different bottle-necks, such as my financial capacity to support a child on my own, fear of having a seriously ill child, and most importantly having to pretty much abandon my previous lifestyle in exchange of becoming a single mother without support networks. I also researched a lot about the ethicality of using an anonymous sperm donor to create a child, who would grow up without knowing half of her/his genetic heritage. It felt like a huge decision to make on behalf of someone else. Twice a week I went running around the artificial lake of Tirana, always the exactly same route. It is a popular place for families, so I saw lots of babies and toddlers. (Albanian kids are the cutest!) Those runs were filled with dreams of pregnancy and a life with my future child.

The lake, where dreams were born

It was time to pull the trigger! Since I was not satisfied with the responsiveness of the American Hospital, I searched out another clinic just a 20min walk from my home. The pleasant walk went through vegetable and fruit stalls, passed by the city's best byrek place and ended at a block of new apartment buildings, where Tirana IVF is located. This route will always stay in my memories, sometimes hopped with joyful expectation, sometimes dragged with deep despair. I will equally remember the waiting room sofas at the clinic. There patients are not given specific appointment times, but they are notified by whatsapp about the day when they should show up. Therefore, the waiting room was always full of couples trying to pass time, and I am not overestimating when saying I finished maybe 5 books in the around 100 hours I spent there. 

I could not have been happier with my choice of clinic. The doctor, working every day around the clock, is internationally recognized and genuinely empathetic towards his patients. As he speaks Albanian and Greek, one English speaking nurse was appointed to communicate with me. However, she hardly translated anything about the situation at hand, just simply told me what medication I needed to take. To know what was going on, I relied on the facial expressions of the doctor (when extremely satisfied, he said one English word "Good!"), the ultrasound screen combined with my understanding of Albanian numbers, and googling based on what medication I had been given. During my countless visits at the clinic I had interesting conversations with the sympathetic young nurses, and learned about their perceptions to fertility treatment and working in the health sector in general. 

To avoid ending up into a spiral of never-ending trying, I decided upfront to do only one round of IVF (in vitro fertilization). Its outcome would determine, whether biological motherhood was meant for me or not. Being fully aware of IVF success rates for 40-year-olds (around 20%), I entered the process with realistic expectations, however somewhat (over)confident about my success, due to my excellent health and previous speedy recoveries from any health-related treatments. I did not want to let the IVF overtake my life, so I consciously made sure to also explore the Balkans, advance my career, meet friends and just live in the present moment, in addition to of course googling everything possible about fertility. 

Diagnostic hysteroscopy was supposed to be just a routine check before staring the IVF. However, its findings were a polyp and some other objects in my uterus. As the nurse showed me the video filmed by the little camera, she asked "If you were an embryo, would you live in such a trashy place?" My answer was of course no, so an operative hysteroscopy was scheduled. It was my first time ever under general anesthesia, and just like the nurses promised, it was the sweetest sleep of my life! I have never tried any drugs, but when the doctor apologized for having chosen a wrong instrument and thus having to repeat the operation, my first reaction was anticipatory satisfaction. At the second hysteroscopy I eagerly extended my arm for the needle, and when I half woke up I instantly told the anesthesia doctor "Hey, more drugs please!" The day after the operation I was already back at practicing yoga. 

It was time to pick to the sperm donor. To make a long story short, I ended up going for one of the donors, whose sperm was already in storage in Tirana. On Valentines Day I had a call with the friendly CEO of the Greek sperm bank that collaborates with IVF Tirana. I did not have a date with the love of my life, but instead picked the donor who would help to create my baby. I imagined a cute kid, an attractive mix of blond Finnish and dark Greek. The helpful CEO sent me a list of 5 possible donors, pre-selected according to my key criteria. The information I got about them was their age, height and weight, horoscope (seemingly a key fact), color of skin, eyes and hair, education, hobbies, self assessment and staff impression. I picked a young tall medical student, interested in gymnastics, drawing and piano, with a charming smile. As there was no photo, I was free to imagine him looking like I wished. This was a fun selection, and a good opportunity to include also my mother, siblings and best friends into the IVF process. 

Frustratingly I needed some months to fully recover from the hysteroscopies. Every time I went to the clinic for a check-up I was prepared to start with the IVF, and every time I was told to wait some more and take some additional medication. Looking back, I really appreciate the doctor's approach to optimize conditions to increase the change of success. Instead of giving in to my pleas to just start, he sternly made me prepare. I was prescribed with overly expensive fertility vitamins and DHEA hormones. Placebo or not, I could swear I was flying when I went running. Additionally, anything (at least half believable) the internet said about increasing egg quality, I implemented. For over 3 months, I drank no alcohol, caffeine or soft drinks, cut off sugar, avoided processed foods and followed the Mediterranean diet (that is the standard in Albania anyways). I discovered that Tirana is full of pharmacies, and they are actually interesting places for shopping.

My remaining medication & lucky items

Parallel to the IVF, life was happening. My work contract in Albania was limited to a year and I was planning on returning to Switzerland, until I was offered to go to work in Laos for half a year. The decision making period was maybe one of the most stressful times of my life. In addition to trying to remotely find new subtenants to my apartment in Switzerland, I was of course facing the time pressure of the IVF. During sleepless nights I ran countless scenarios through my head; the IVF completely failing / me getting immediately pregnant / creating x number of frozen embryos... What would each scenario mean career wise, financially and most importantly to my chances of having a baby? In the end I decided not utilizing this excellent job opportunity would be too big of a risk, so I went ahead to sign a contract and book flights to Vientiane. 

Yet another check-up at the clinic resulted in a further delay with the IVF start. As I was swallowing more estrogen pills at home, I counted days needed for simulation and fresh embryo transfer, and came to a conclusion that I would have to be very lucky to make it before my departure to Laos. With a heavy heart I texted the clinic that I must cancel the IVF. Their optimistic response was reassuring that the remaining weeks would indeed be enough. It being Albania, I went on to negotiate "If I have to break off the IVF, I pay nothing for it, ok?", followed by a reply "Deal". A few days later I finally started the egg growing simulation! I had been waiting for this phase for months, so I was filled with excitement. The nurses gave me a protocol and showed me how to inject the hormones, including drawing correct injection areas on my belly and bottom. I actually liked the injecting, because it meant concrete action towards realizing my dream, and in general it was a curios activity. I walked to the clinic almost every day for blood draws and ultrasounds, to follow how the follicles were growing and my hormone levels were developing. I was feeling excellent, carrying the exciting secret with me as I attended an intensive MRM training at work and switched running to walking. 

When the follicles were ready, I got experience the lovely general anesthesia one more time during egg retrieval. It went well, and while I was packing my suitcases I received a message saying that 14 eggs were collected, of whom 10 were ripe and 7 had fertilized with the sperm. The embryologist considered it a fabulous result for a 40-year-old! Because of my departure to Laos, the fresh transfer was a 3-day embryo, while the other 6 were frozen. I still remember it like yesterday, drinking a fresh orange juice in the sun at a cafe outside the clinic, right before receiving my little embryo. I have to admit, I was slightly disappointed not having had an extra day to grow the embryos into 5-day blastocysts, but I did my best to root for that 3-day embryo. And I was even more disappointed when I was at Tirana airport ready to board my flight, just to find out it had been cancelled last minute and I would fly only the following day. Had I known, could I have transferred a 5-day embryo. Anyways off I flew, injecting progesterone in the tiny airplane toilet, arriving in hot Vientiane not knowing whether I was starting the new job pregnant. 

The two week wait went rather smoothly as I was busy getting to know my work team and project, viewing apartments and sampling different yoga schools. On a Saturday, before it was time to test, I suddenly felt really dizzy and fell asleep for a couple of hours. When I woke up I felt fine and walked to a shopping mall, but since then all pregnancy symptoms were gone. The elementary 0,8€ costing pregnancy tests, that I had found at a local pharmacy, showed negative, and my blood HCG test was 5. The clinic, with whom I was in contact via whatsapp, decided to torture me and made me re-test until the HCG value was 0. I was not pregnant. I cried for a whole two hours. Then I decided, against all common sense and ignorant of flight costs and GHG emissions, to spend my holidays flying back to Tirana for a frozen embryo transfer. To my luck, the clinic failed to collaborate with this plan, so I stayed in Laos enjoying my work, expat life and traveling around the provinces.

Praying for a baby at a temple specialized in child wishes

Fast forward 5 months and I was planning my return to Switzerland, and to Albania where my little frozen embryos were patiently waiting. I started to prepare for an embryo transfer during my last weeks in Vientiane. An ultrasound was needed to determine uterus conditions, but I was not entirely sure what needed to be checked and there are no IVF clinics in Laos. So I picked the fanciest international hospital in town. It was like walking into a 5-star hotel and I almost turned back, severely fearing for the bill. However, I went through the ultrasound experience including colorful Lao-style examination pants, and got some pictures at a rather reasonable price. Thanks to this remote controlling I had to double my estrogen intake, which made me sweat even in the freezing air conditioning of the office. 

At sunset I waved goodbye to Vientiane and got on a plane to Bangkok, and then to Zürich. Next morning I arrived in Switzerland and took a taxi to drop off my big luggage at home. In the afternoon I took the train to Basel, from where almost daily cheap flights depart to Tirana. When I landed at Tirana airport, I had been awake more or less for 40 hours and could think of nothing else but sleeping in my own bed. (I had rented my old apartment for the following 2 weeks.) Instead, the clinic told me to come over straight away. At 22PM one could expect a quiet clinic, but it was full of waiting patients. After the nurses saw me falling asleep on the sofa, they told me to pick a pillow and go sleep on the gynecologist table in an empty examination room. It so felt good to be back at the clinic, that had become so familiar during the past year. 

Meeting up with friends, drinking (decaf) coffee and walking around sunny Tirana filled my days before the embryo transfer. This time I had asked for a 5-day blastocyst. I already know the quick procedure. When I was laying down after it, the international embryologist, traveling between clinics in Albania, Greece and Dubai, came over from his laboratory. He told me that unfortunately the other 5 embryos had died during trying reach the blastocyst stage. This meant that all the cards were on this one embryo! I kept talking to it as I took it for walks, first that evening in Tirana, the next day at Istanbul airport, and then in freezing Helsinki. As the testing day approached, I felt it less and less meaningful to talk to the embryo. Several mornings of negative tests, followed by 0 at a HCG blood test, confirmed my anticipation. I did see two lines on a positive Corona test. I did not break down. I numbed my feelings and continued living with the knowledge that my dream of becoming a biological mother had died.

Beautiful scenery for dreams to die

10 years of international life - closing the circle

In November 2014 I wrote this post . I had just quit my job, sold my possessions and bought a one-way ticket to Bangkok. I wrote: "Please do not ask about my specific plans or time schedule. Roughly speaking, I will travel around doing hiking/climbing/sightseeing/job hunting/professional networking/nothing". This was the start of my international life, almost exactly 10 years ago. During those years I have spent altogether 27 months traveling, worked in 4 countries and lived in 8 apartments. Thanks to more or less random decisions, spells of luck and maybe even a bit of hard work, I can say I have lived exactly as I wanted to and would not change a thing! I am glad I have documented parts of that journey, that has brought me all over the world, on this blog. 

Now I have a permanent job in Lucerne, Switzerland, where I live in a big beautiful apartment. I enjoy my everyday life there. I work among interesting topics, in a motivated and friendly team. There are mountains literally on my backyard. I know quite a lot of people, although I am still to make some close friends in my new hometown. I am finally where I need to be, yet there have been moments when I look longingly back to my international times. That is when I feel old, having all the "good times" behind me and never coming back. Countless flashbacks of climbing routes, travel buddies and various destinations roll like a film in my mind. Deep down I know they are gone, yet I refuse to completely let go, afraid that nothing as great will replace them. 

It is November 2024, and I have once again flown to Bangkok to go on a trip in SE Asia. As work sent me to evaluate a project in Cambodia, I decided to add a month of holidays to the trip and take the train through Vietnam to Hong Kong. Since I now minimize my flight related carbon emissions (post about it), I knew this would be my last inter-continental travels, so to say closing the circle. Doing this trip coincidently 10 years after the start of my international life seemed symbolic, yet I did not expect that closing this circle would mean also some difficulties letting go. Sure I could have spent my holidays with less reflection and more relaxing, but this is what I got. I can summarize the process in three topics, now writing from Hong Kong almost at the end of my trip. 

1. Working abroad 

Although after working in Albania and Laos I could not wait to return to Switzerland, and I am truly happy with what I have there, I also stayed open for a further international position. (I have to accept that I am rather opportunistic by nature, that I just cannot change.) However, doing an intensive 2-week work assignment in Cambodia, and exposing myself to the expat circles there, did not make me longing to go back to that lifestyle. The advantage of being close to project implementation would not make up to my almost non-existent understanding of the culture and language, as well as lack of public transport, walkability and clean environment. I also realised that without a family of my own I would not want to grow old overseas, as the life of an older single expat seems somehow empty to me. I am extremely pleased for having worked in field positions, though, as otherwise I would have missed out on valuable experiences. (I wrote more about work in this post .) Now I am completely content with working in Switzerland and being in touch with international projects from there on. 

2. Long travels 

This is my first (and probably last) longer non-climbing solo trip. Frankly said it has been challenging. Traveling for climbing is so simple: You pick an area with good weather and attractive crags, go there and meet like-minded people. You have a meaningful activity to challenge yourself with. You are automaticly surrounded by authentic, beautiful landscapes. Now that I have been just a regular tourist, I have struggled with finding activities and destinations that would give me the same fulfillment as climbing. Sure I enjoy visiting museums and historical sights, eating, going for runs and yoga lessons, and reading books, but not for weeks on end. At times I have felt bored and disoriented. Besides, meeting engaging people of my age has been a matter of luck. And this luck has been the highlight of my trip! After spending several days completely alone (and thus reflecting so much), I have truly valued the insightful conversations and little exploration trips with fellow travelers, no matter how short. Again, I am glad I did my long travels when I was a 30-something climber, fitting into the crew. Of course I will still go on holidays, now looking forward to shorter and differently planned trips, if possible together with people I know. 

3. Hong Kong - the unexpected one 

10 years ago I stayed in Hong Kong for some months and absolutely fell in love with the city and its energy! It has a lively traditional Chinese side, coupled with well organised westernity. The endless sea of skyscrapers is surrounded by versatile, easy-to-access nature. I liked it so much that I even applied for jobs here, but as I did not get any, continued my travels and ended up in Europe. When I returned, I got sucked into the city once again and spent a few days contemplating about what I had lost by not staying here. Seeing lights on windows high up, I was wondering whether here anyone would be waiting for me to come home, busily rushing through the streets and metro tunnels after a long day at work. Then I realized that for me Hong Kong is great only as a visitor, just leasurily observing all the buzz going around. No matter how dynamic and flashy, working around the clock to just afford a decent apartment would not be for me. Again, I am grateful I came back to see this. (Although I had not even realized what a lasting impact the city had left on me. Therefore I was surprised that this ended up being the final crux of closing the circle.) 

During my previous stay in Hong Kong I got a tattoo idea when I saw some cool graphic art at the PMQ centre. I thought about that idea on and off during all the passing years, but never came to realizing it. So it felt right to do it now. With some online research done already in Switzerland, I was lucky to get a slot with such a talented, sought-after tattoo artist just a few minutes walk from the PMQ centre, the original source of the idea. I got my super pretty tattoo yesterday and absolutely love it! Maybe it deserves a post of its own (like my other tattoo has here ). But for now, I quickly say that it symbolizes the courage to trust that life brings along exactly what is meant to be; admitting that some life phases are over in order to create space for new ones. It stays with me as a sign of peacefully closing the circle, probably of what has been the most impactful 10 years of my life.

What am I doing in Laos

Sometimes I like reading what I thought about selected topics years ago. Now that I have – so to say – “made it” in the field of international development, meaning that I am working in a developing country on an attractive expat contract (although just for 6 months), I decided to look back to this post I wrote 6 years ago. Then I had just finished my first 2 working years in an iNGO in the Netherlands and wrote about my initial knowledge and impressions about the fascinating but challenging world of development cooperation. I started reading the post with a slight sense of self-embarrassment towards the professionally inexperienced version of myself, but in the end most of the content is not awfully off and what saves the text is admitting how little I knew back then. (But how on earth have I managed to make all those grammar mistakes! To save my ass, if I still remember correctly, I was slightly drunk when writing that post.) 

 I remember at the time of leaving that job in the Netherlands I was contemplating between building a stable, comfortable life in Europe and progressing my career by adventuring in some developing country. I had visited projects in several countries and knew that the realities in the field were far from what was imagined in the head office. It was ten times more motivating meeting beneficiaries where action was taking place than just looking at impact figures in front of a computer. First hand experience of what is going on in the implementation of a project definitely helps to better plan, support and monitor it. I saw the thrill of living in a completely different environment, learning about a new culture by working inside of it, and most importantly the value of gaining field work experience much appreciated in the international development industry. However, back then the desire to find myself a home country and focus on rock climbing was stronger than the pull to field work. Looking back, I am now happy I put the effort of almost 5 years to establish my life in Switzerland, a country I carefully picked out and now happily call the home I belong to. As there is a right time for everything in life, last year I set out to venturing the world of field work. (I wrote more about that decision in a previous post.) First I lived in Albania for a year and when I got offered to continue in Laos for half a year more, I of course accepted the opportunity. Now I have been in Vientiane for 3 months. 

Vientiane night market

I have moved from climate protection to employment support and economic empowerment. I am finally putting my business studies into use and developing entrepreneurship trainings for marginalized youth aspiring to start their own micro-businesses. To be honest, I really like adjusting business planning tools, budget templates and seed money applications to serve the needs of people barely having finished primary school, some of them having difficulties even with reading and basic calculations. But what is greatest is meeting these youngsters at business trainings and pitching events. They have often been neglected big parts of their lives; growing up without caring adults, working in the farm instead of getting education, facing poverty and social discrimination, basically having no one believing in them. For many of them participating in the project is the first time when they think about their future and make life plans. In rural areas of Laos most of them choose to learn basic tailoring, cookery, motorbike repair, mushroom production, barbering and beauty salon services. 

Training of business mentors

For me the most inspiring part of my work has been to witness the participants’ transformation during the 5-day entrepreneurship trainings. Step by step they build their business canvasses, where ideas become concrete plans. But it is not just about learning technical skills, as the curricula includes also self-work on accepting past difficulties, changing limiting beliefs, dreaming about success and celebrating achievements. I have been truly moved by the courage of these youth to share their painful experiences, support each other and trust to go after their goals. Compared to them, I have always been in the privileged position to shape my life as I see fit. However, although my problems are nothing like theirs, I also have inner work to do in order to become a more confident, resourceful person. In the trainings I often jumped into the imagination practices and sharing circles, and I got so much energy from the engaged, motivated youth. If they are able to believe in their dreams and commit to achieving them, so am I! As much as it is my job is to create an enabling program for these youngsters, they keep inspiring me as they learn various entrepreneurship skills (of which many are completely new concepts to them), which they poor into their businesses eyes shining with excitement. Of course, their journey is just beginning, and I cannot wait to visit them when they open their shops and provide their communities with products and services. I just really wish I could understand the Lao language. Although I have colleagues kindly translating for me, I miss out on a lot of information, especially during informal sharing sessions and breaks. 

Young entrepreneurs in business training

Main street in Xayaburi

As much as work is fulfilling, life in Vientiane can be monotonous at times. It is too hot and there is nothing to do. (Heard this complaint before? Yes, in my post about adapting to Albania.) I live in a comfortable serviced apartment (man it is quick getting used to not cleaning yourself), practice yoga with a kind, experienced teacher, and in 3 months I have eaten out more times than I could afford in a lifetime in Switzerland. But there is not much more to do here and I do not know many people to hang out with. I literally aimlessly walk around my neighborhood and browse through supermarkets, just to kill time. I miss hiking in the mountains, meeting friends at the climbing gym, going to art exhibitions, ice skating, just having a selection of free time activities. I have 3 more months to go in Laos and I aim to enjoy every single moment of it, as I know that in the end I will miss this slow, laid back lifestyle. However, knowing that my time here is limited helps with the enjoying, as I might think differently was I to stay for many more years to come. No matter what, I am so thankful for the opportunities I have gotten to work in interesting projects around the world and build my career in international development. So far it has been a great journey and I look forward to seeing where else it takes me, be it at home in Switzerland or again somewhere else abroad…