“And you didn’t tell me that before?”
“Why does it matter? It’ll be the first time for both of us.”
My stomach trembles. Hearing “first time” doesn’t help with my nerves.
“Where do you want to do it then?” This sounds so wrong...
“Let’s go all the way to the last pier. It’ll be more private there.”
My heart pounds against my ribs, and I climb back onto my bike to follow Erik, who is speeding ahead.
We stop when we reach the end of the large straight path bordering the shore, near post five, where there are toilets and an ice cream kiosk closed for the season.
White wind turbines spin lazily out in the water. The bridge to Sweden is visible at a distance—an impressive piece of engineering with a two-and-a-half-mile underwater tunnel. It’s also possible to see a faint Malmö skyline on the horizon. We leave our bikes against the waist-high wall separating the paved path from the sand and walk toward the empty pier.
“If we freeze to death, Erik, I’ll kill you,” I warn him, and he laughs.
We walk on the wooden planks, farther and farther out. There are a few ladders on the sides at different depths for those who wish to lower themselves into a quick dip.
“Is that how we’re doing it?” I point at the nearest ladder.
“It’s what people usually do.” He shrugs.
I shake my head. “How would that give us a good photo? No, no...we jump.”
“What?” Erik laughs. “That would be insane. It’s too sudden. You could get a cold water shock.”
I turn around. “Let’s go to the sand, and then we run into the water.”
With a husky laugh, Erik follows me. I walk back, then jump on the sand, heading for a spot where I can get a good shot of us running toward the sea. I take my camera and the tripod out of my bag and start setting up the scene.
I find a great frame with the graphite clouds looking dramatic. When I’m adjusting the shutter speed, Erik stops behind me, his large body towering over my crouched figure.
“Come on, take off your clothes. I’m freezing.”
I glance back and then look ahead again, covering my eyes and laughing hysterically. “You’re naked?” I’m so shocked, my voice sounds shrill. “What are you doing?”
Oh my. I picture the police dropping by and arresting him for indecent exposure.
“We do this naked.”
Gosh, he needs to stop talking like that.
“You winter-bathe naked?” I’m scandalized like a conservative eighty-year-old lady.
And I’m feeling tricked. Like, when did I sign up for that?
“It’s not a big deal here, okay? People are comfortable in their bodies. Nudity is natural. No one cares.”
My eyes are huge, and I’m keeping them on my camera. Jeez. That’s what I call a culture shock.
“You can do it in clothes or however you want. But if you want to do it like a Viking, then take it all off now before I become an ice statue permanently exhibited on this beach.”
I take a deep breath. Okay. I’ll do it right. As they say in Brazil: Quem está na chuva é pra se molhar. “If you are in the rain, it’s to get wet.”
I stand up and unzip my coat. “Would you mind turning around, please?”
Erik is dancing in place, trying to handle the cold, and he does as I say. I quickly take off my boots, my socks, my pants, my sweater, my T-shirt, and lastly, my bikini. The photo needs to reflect my transformation from a prude tropical girl into a brave and confident Viking—with censor bars I’ll add later, of course.
I play by the rules. And I go all in.
It’s very, very, very, very cold, and I’m not even in the water yet.
Erik is already in front of the camera, and I crouch down again to set the timer.
“Ready?” Once I press the shutter button, I’ll have ten seconds to join him.
“I’m ready!” He bounces up and down, and I try not to look at his uncensored figure.
I glance over my shoulder. We are still alone and far from any other human. I might have felt a few drops of rain, but it’s hard to know now that my entire body has started to freeze.
“Hurry, Sol!” he shouts with a shaky voice.
Adrenaline kicks in. I press the button and run to join Erik. He grabs my hand and looks at me. The red light of the camera blinks.
“Ready? Three, two, one... Go!”
We run, and the camera clicks a couple of shots until our ankles are in and icy water is splashing all around us. I scream, frozen in place, but Erik drags me by the hand, and I have no choice but to enter farther and farther.
