Easily Pleased: The Art Of Being Lost

Hello people!

I allowed myself a brief moment to think before I unhinged my stream of consciousness to let it loose on the page, and came to a realisation. Do we know that we're all contributing towards this remarkable, wholesome community of people that spans vast planes of time and space? Right now? It's pretty impressive when you think about it. Global citizens of Oz.

So today was fantastic! First day in Stockholm and I love it here. No snow as it turns out but it was nonetheless absolutely ice cold! By the end of the day my mouth was so cold that I couldn't speak faster than I thought up words to say! I was asked whether or not I had heard about doctors without borders about three seperate times and I didn't just sound like a confused tourist I'm sure they thought I had microwaved my own head or something!

Bemusement is the look I was going for...I think

Abtin and Manige (my caretakers for the moment! like I've said, they change at almost every post!) were long gone by the time I woke up which left me feeling very excited and very much on my own. So today turned out to be the day where I more or less conquered my unwillingness to use public transport out of sheer necessity!

I left the house, geared up with my standard set of essentials. There's the bus and train tables, a notebook replete with all the Swedish I know (two pages worth), my Camera and spare battery, my brick phone (just in case I need to break down a door), my wallet swollen with four kinds of coins (and counting), and my old, tattered map of the city! And off I went.

So it began in a matter of minutes. At the bus stop I met this old Irishman who'd lived here for about a decade or something. So he told me all about the public transport system, where to go in southern England when I get back, and since we were getting off at the same stop we talked for ages. Swedes are great people! they all have this hidden charm in their eye as soon as you start a conversation. Abtin told me they love it when foreigners do that, break the ice. They're quite shy but all really quite conversational once you get the ball rolling!

This building was on a piece of land in between old town and mainland Stockholm

So getting out at central station, I told myself I have to get the maximum out of the day. I'm sorry, but I'm just going to have to talk about the Swedish girls again. I was in the city square and I found myself just walking aimlessly in circles just overwhelmed by this torrent of blondes. Gah! I got off the sub one stop earlier because I felt like walking and my travel resolution has been follow all impulses with no regrets.

So I started off watching the fishermen straddling the bridge edge against the backdrop of this breathtaking city that looked as if it were sliding into the still water. One of my favourite features are the stone steps that go down from the plazas until you can only just see them under the surface. So I looked out city hall where the annual nobel prize banquet is held first, then heading across the bridge into old town.

You can see one of the myriad of bridges in the background here. This is the place where all the fishermen stood too.

I walked around the edge of the mainland that old city was built upon, seeing the palace, parliament building and the inside of this ornate old cathedral where I talked to this violinist who was rehearsing for some prestigious ceremony this sunday. I stole a few pictures, pretending not to know what the signs meant, despite the fact they were pictures. I made my way through the winding, tangled streets past a canopy of signs for the cafes that lined the narrow laneways, waiting for that gut feel that told me when the right one was. The loudest gut feel was sheer hunger, but I really liked this particular one not sure why. So I left having inscribed upon my map where I wanted to walk next feeling the company of the goulash I'd just downed with a coffee.

So I overshot my intended checkpoint and ended up at the foot of an observertory located close to the hub of Stockholm.

The Observertory I ran into - mad huh

From there I walked back down the main avenue to central, asking for the occasional direction, then catching the bus the rest of the way. And that leaves me right here! Actually doing some planning - how novel!

Stockholm at sundown - wow

Enjoy the pics! wish you were here...
but not really - travelling alone has been priceless!

The Next Chapter: Divergence

I can definitively say that this is going to be an exciting post for all of us, right here, right now. It just occurred to me how damn tired I am. I worked it out, and it's physically impossible for me to have slept more than two and two thirds of hours last night. Which is generally one of my favourite excuses for sub standard phrasing and grammar. Plus, being in Sweden (Oh. My. Goodness. ) the keyboard is whack and shift is replaced half the time with this variation of 'alt'. And to give you an idea of the conditions in which I am typing it took me about a minute to figure out how to make an apostrophe. And you can rest assured I'm not joking. But, completely inexplicable and just as noteworthy I am in fact obscenely happy! Mitra (My neighbor Ramteen's aunty off whom Í am currently freeloading) is singing to a Gun's and Roses power ballad in a beautiful Persian/Swedish accent which I love! My belly is warm with a generous helping of her acclaimed cooking (I was under a joy induced coma at the time that it was being served), my body is clean as the streets of the River Thames after one of my famous 30m showers, my clothes are being washed as we speak, and the fresh memories of the past day are coming to me like the plot to Quantam of Solace. Disjointed but delightful.


So where we left off I will assume was yesterday morning because I really cannot be bothered to check the last post. Unless there's a comment. In which case just re post it onto this one cheers. See how lazy I am after staying with Mitra only a matter of hours? She is incredible! Her passion for hospitality rivals the gong team. And let me tell you, that is no throwaway remark. So the morn of yest was memorable mostly because it was the third (Third? We're so lame) time that nick and I had promised crepes to katie and not delivered. But as a disclaimer we were woken into a volotile set of circumstances that justify our shortcomings. Mainly because katie had organised a removalist to come in 20m time and literally half of her apartment was nowhere near being ready for storage. Plus katie had her work farewell the night before. Need I say more? So we got it all done in fantastic time for the removalist to come. I can say without an inch of hesitation he was the worst removalist ever. His greatest moment was when (as we were still packing boxes) he came into the room looking as if he was about to burst into tears and with a clearly laboured breath he whined in his high pitched voice 'Is there anything more?'. There should be a manual for handling the emotionally needy who seem to forget that they're actually paid to work.


So katie took us to b'fast, then we went shopping. Like a great dam my wallet burst open from the pressure of months and months of frugality bordering on complete minimalism and I bought this gorgeous coat and a scarf. This improved my mood to no end! So I went home, packed my bag (years of tetris paying off) and went out to dinner with the underhill's cousin Patrick. It's a new approach for me to meet the people I'm going to be staying with over here. Tonight's Indian trumped lasts over and over, evident in our ruthless scouring of every dish on the table. Then it was time for town. Green and red, the tequila bar of brick lane, turned out to be quite the climax of my first stint in London. (So) many photos later, at 0130 (Yes, that was the actual time) katie and I left nick (or what was left of him) to catch my last bus.

This is where London opened up for me. This is where it was at. I sat down, and as soon as I had this lovely girl from south London turned around and asked about my guitar. Being disposed towards talking about anything that relates to me we talked until her stop at Picadilly. My next friend was upstairs. A shift worker from the south coast of England who spoke with this slow and precise accent about all things from ambition to success. Getting off at terminal 5 was where things began to unravel. A brief sleepy sojourn on the bus left me dull witted and disoriented. I remembered my mum's words though to keep a level head and not to let stress affect your deciison making. A bus driver I spoke to gave me a ride (FREE OF CHARGE!) to another central bus station where I met a man from Nigeria who told me I needed terminal 4. So with less than an hour left the scene can be captured in an image of me, bags and loose clothing strewn across my shoulders, running towards the check in gates. I woke up after each flight (In Amsterdam and Copenhagen chronologically) with my plane food on my lap and just kept moving. Asking people about anything has been so useful. So next thing I know I'm on my way to Malmo along the ocean finding out the first Swede I met was not only unemployed but a drug pusher and I'm thinking, this so so damn awesome! Europe, it's all about the people!

So, having a taste for the cocktail of uncertainty and éxcitement that was backpacking I am looking forward to both Mitra's incredible meals now and the void beyond. And I know for sure that this is where I was always supposed to be at this moment, here and now.

P.S bloody hell I just thought I deleted this entire post but I am stoked to say nothing in the room was mutilated. I probably wouldn't have written another one today!