Scandinavialog (pics added)

[scottieking]

These are awesome. Guess no one expects to go to Norway and get a tan eh?

[Velvet]

There was a third band at the festival that was also the same guys as Hurra Torpedo and Black Debbath. They were called The Cumshots, but I missed them; they were the first band that played at the fest.

[Ms.Huxtable]

Sorry to hear you missed the cumshots Velvet.

[ggrtrhhrtgg]

13 bands??? those guys do sound incredible!!

[Velvet]

Scandinavialog, Stardate 081406

I had a pretty restless sleep so I spent the morning just sitting around taking it easy; had a shower and a shave, did some reading and made lunch. I went downtown and ran some errands, post office, book shop, internet, that sorta thing and came back for dinner. I was gonna check out a free show as the Oslo Jazz Festival starts today, but it was raining so I bailed.

I did, however, have a ticket to a show tonight, and that show happened to be the Grand Opening show of this 20th Anniversary of the Oslo Jazzfest. The show was at the Oslo Konserthus which made it a bit cooler indeed. It's a beautiful soft-seat theatre, big and concrete on the outside, warm and woody inside. There is of course dozens of sculptures in the hall; there's sculptures everywhere in Oslo. The stage and the seating area is very wide, and there is one balcony, which rises out of the floor on either side of the floor. That is, the first row of the balcony is essentially on the floor, the second row a bit actually off the floor and so on. I was in the 30th row of the balcony so it felt balconish.

I spent some time meandering around the building and got to my seat just before the show started. The house was full (the show was sold out) and there was the usual crowd hubbub when all of a sudden, as if on an invisible cue, the whole crowd stood up and shut up as one. A lady and two escorts walked into the room and took seats in the eighth row on the floor. "Who's that?" I asked the lady beside me. "That's our queen," she answered. Cool, royalty. Maybe that's why everybody was dressed to the nines (I was in shorts and a t-shirt). "You'd think the queen would get better seats," I commented, and was told that the eighth row has extra leg room so they are actually prime seats.

So a dude got up to do the introductions and spoke forever. Turns out he was introducing the queen and she got up and did a speech as well. Then the music started.

The Steve Kuhn trio (Steve - piano, David Finck - bass, Billy Drummond - drums) is American (I believe) and they were quite good. I was especially taken with the drummer who played very lyrically; a rare riff-oriented jazz drummer. They played fairly standard jazz, not too outside, not too inside and they did an hour or so before being joined onstage by Karin Krog.

This was Karin's show, though you wouldn't know it (and she's not why I was there). Krog is a famous Norwegian jazz singer, she's almost 70 (though she looks no more than 45) and people were very excited. She sang four or five songs with the trio behind her, and it was nothing special. Very standard singing, nothing notable whatsoever. Then it was set break. I was soooo thirsty but I just couldn't bring myself to drop $18 on a beer or even $7 for a bottle of water. I suffered it out.

Whereas at the NAC a bell chimes to let the audience know to take their seats, at the Oslo Konserthus they play an ethereal chime that sounds like diamonds spilling onto a toy xylophone. Again on noncue the audiences rises, but this time it was for the wrong person! Everybody laughed and as they were deciding whether to sit down again or remain standing out came the queen again. And now the man I came to see, Toots Theilemans. He was also backed up by the trio, and he was great. A little out of breath here and there, but that harmonica just sounded so...Toots. I was pretty dissappointed at the set list, which was so standard it was almost boring. Summertime, What A Wonderful World, Autumn Leaves, you get the idea. Why oh why couldn't he have included at least one riff from the Sesame Street theme? Still great music though, and after a while they were joined again by Karin Krog. She didn't get any more interesting during the set break, but it was great to have Toots tooting along behind her. More standards, and five or six tunes later it was done. Altogether we had three hours in there, so there was a lot of music.

A nice night, but man am I itching to get out of Oslo!

[Velvet]

Scandinavialog, Stardate 081506

I had dream last night that I lost my girlfriend; I looked everywhere and finally there she was, wondering what all the fuss was about. I miss Heather. I remember being very homesick the first time I went to Asia back in the early nineties, and it was detrimental to my trip. Missing people when you're away is sorta like being nervous before playing a show; if you learn to utilise the feeling properly it can change from a negative to a positive. You can take that nervous energy and use it to lose yourself in a performance, and you can take the feeling of missing someone and turn it around too. When I think of my gilfriend I feel that this trip has a purpose, a destination, and that is coming home. So instead of thinking of each day as one less day of exploring the world, I think of it as another step in reaching the goal.

Today should be my last day in Oslo, so I made a point of visiting the last place I've been meaning to visit, come rain or shine. Well, it was rain, but I still went to Statue Park, or whatever the hell it's called in the local tongue.

Statue Park is aptly named. It's quite large, and as I understand it, all the sculptures in the park were done by the same guy. I don't remember his name, but there's a museum dedicated to him here in town. As you enter the park you cross a bridge that is lined on both sides by statues of naked men, women and children in various stages of play. There's lots of wrestling going on too. There must be fifty of them, all unique, all engaging. These are all formed from some kind of metal. Then you come to a huge fountain that is surrounded by dozens more of these statue people in even more poses, though these are made from a different metal, the kind that turns green. Beyond that is the showpiece of the park, a huge tower of writhing bodies called The Monolith, and it is the worlds largest granite statue. The base on which it stands is ringed with still more granite naked figures. I think there were thirty-six pieces surrounding The Monolith, and these were all groups of people: pairs, trios, even one of dozens of children piled on top of each other. This is the only place where the artist had sculpted elderly people. It was really quite stunning, and one of the few times that I really wish I had a guided tour. I would have liked to know more about this stuff. Beyond The Monolith was a sundial and then a ring of naked men on a high pedestal. It seemed like a sculptural epilogue; obviously lesser than The Monolith, but a good cool down if you will.

Dramatic malnourishment induced me to have the Subway daily special, a six-inch ham & cheese for only $8. This is the first 'home' food I've had and my body appreciated it.

Came back to the tent and had a glorious two-hour nap, happily listening to the raindrops patting away on my tent. Isn't that sometimes just the best feeling sound in the world?

I had a ticket to Me'Shell Ndagagdutadxcello tonight as part of the jazz fest, but I just didn't feel like it after all the great music I've already heard in the last several days, so I sold my ticket and bought a few beers at the store. It's nice to put a little money back in my pocket from the cash I dropped on the Oya Festival ticket. Actually I got a third of that ticket price back, even though I sold my MeShell ticket for less than face value. I'm sure it woulda been a good show, but I'm also sure I'll get a chance to see her back home sometime, and for less than $70.

Here's the stats for me booting around Oslo for the past week:

Time: 5:57.35

Average speed: 13.8

Distance: 82.44

Maximum speed: 53.0

Total distance: 560.93

A third of that wasn't biking at all; it was me sitting on the bike and applying my brakes as I descended through the hairpin turns down from the campground to the city centre. Another third of it was in very low gear coming back up. The rest was meandering, and often walking my bike through this beautiful city. Lovely as it is, I've been here almost a week, and I'm happy to be hitting the road tomorrow, even in the rain. If it absolutely pours I'll have to stick around maybe, but if it's just the usual rain, I'm ramblin'.

Edited September 10, 2006 by Guest

[Velvet]

Scandinavialog, Stadate 081606

Elvis day. Five years ago right now I was at Graceland. It seems way longer ago than that.

It was just the usual rain today so I packed up all my gear and went on my way. I had one major concern, and that was how to get where I'm going. Y'see, the E18 highway goes from western Norway all the way to Helsinki, perhaps even beyond, I'm not sure. It's the route to take according to my maps, but as it's a Class 1 highway (or whatever they call it) bicycles aren't allowed. One person told me that she had ridden to Oslo from the west along the E18; there's a bike path equivelant also called the E18 and she reasoned if it went into Oslo it should go out of Oslo. I combined this with the advice of a guy who rides his motorcycle along what he called the old Sweden road. I had even gone to the Oslo Bicycle Club and got weird advice from the guy there. Among the things he said was, "No problem, bicycles are allowed on the E18 all the way." So I headed out of town, and when I encountered the E18 sure enough there was a bike path marked E18 (in both directions). I hung a left and powered on.

About seven kilometres later I was coming down a big hill and I saw the city ahead start to come into view. Waitaminnit, I know that skyline, I've been looking at it for six days! So it turns out I spent my first hour biking through the rain going full circle. I groaned and turned around and had an excellent day.

I was mainly on bike paths for the first 45 kilometres, cruising through some of the prettiest landscape you wanna imagine at twenty kilometres an hour. At one point I stopped at a campground to make sure I was on the right track and I drove right into a severe dispute. Two cops were in the process of taking a kid down, and he was enormously pissed. Other people were getting into and the cops seemed pretty overwhelmed. I asked my directions and got out of there. I was pleased to see that the farther I got from Oslo the drier things got, until I finally had me a sunny day.

When the bike path seemed to end I stopped and asked some guys for directions. They told me that as of the town of Äs, where we were, the E18 is downgraded to a Class 2 highway and bikes are allowed. Awesome, though it was a lot more trafficcy, especially at first.

Here's how it works: bicycles are allowed on most of the E18, but when you approach a city or town you'll see a bike path, though they aren't marked E18 anymore. You hop on the path and pretty soon in the distance you can see that the E18 becomes a major highway just for motorised vehicles again. The path may or may not turn into a nice small road, but eventually you'll get dumped back onto where the E18 becomes cyclable again.

I am now about 15 kilometres from the border to Sweden. I was gonna cross over today but decided not to for two reasons. I have so little hash left that I can easily smoke the rest of it tonight and leave one joint left for the morning, then I don't have to worry about getting it (and the papers and the bt bottle) across the border, though I realise it'll likely be another unnoticable border. Secondly I passed the prettiest little pond that I had to stop and camp at. In Norway and Sweden there's an old respected law that anyone is allowed to camp, walk, hike, and cycle anywhere in the country regardless of ownership of the land. You can't interfere with crops and you have to be anywhere from 70-150m (depending on what source you believe) from a dwelling. So camping is free, and I'm taking it!

Today's stats:

Time: 4:53.30

Average speed: 20.2

Distance: 98.90

Maximum speed: 45.5

Total distance: 659.83

I'm all set up here, cooked myself a nice little supper, cracked a beer, and now I just gotta smoke a bunch of hash and watch the sun go down.

Edited September 10, 2006 by Guest

[phorbesie]

I'm all set up here, cooked myself a nice little supper, cracked a beer, and now I just gotta smoke a bunch of hash and watch the sun go down.

that sounds lovely.

i'm looking forward to seeing you soon too!

[Im going home Donny]

ha! I love that you have your own Elvis day.

I'm told Elvis is everywhere.

[Velvet]

Scandinavialog, Stardate 081706

I woke up to just the perfect morning. The mist was rising off my little lake, the skies were nothing but blue, and the quiet little road was, well, quiet. I made some breakfast and packed up. When I was ready to go I mounted the rocky hill overlooking the water and sat down and smoked a nice phatty before setting off on a beautiful ride. I love the smell of Norway in the morning.

About 18kms down the road I saw a sign for currency exchange and pulled in. "Are we in Sweden?" "Yes, we are." Sure enough, another invisible border.

By this point the road had brought me back to the E18, but here in Sweden it is a whole different story. No more bike paths or side roads, I was left with just hugging the side of the highway, and it was tight. This is the only road that heads in the right direction towards Stockholm, it's two lanes, and narrow lanes at that, and I have a four to six inch shoulder to ride in, mostly with a guardrail too. The traffic is busy as hell, and when there's vehicles in both directions the cars and trucks are just skimming by me, inches away at 90k. I almost went into the gravel a few times, and I almost dumped once or twice. It was like biking on a high-wire, and the repurcussions for screwing up were just as dire as if I was. It was really unfortunate because the drive had the potential for being really great; beautiful scenery and shining sun, but it was hairy.

About thirty kilometres into Sweden I

came to the town of Arjang, and I stopped for a nice big lunch. Pardon me if I start raving about how cheap everything is, but after Norway it seems things are half price! Still double compared to home, but so cheap compared to Norway that I went on a spending spree. Bought food, whiskey, groceries, and a bus ticket.

I had enquired at the tourist info about alternate routes to Stockholm, and when I told the lady I had been on the E18 she almost had a heart attack! She said that most of the E18 is legal for biking, but she thought that it was pretty dangerous and I should try to stay off it as much as I could. We were in total agreement so we did some digging. It seems that from Karlstad on there is alternate routing to Stockholm, but to find my way to Karlstad avoiding the E18 would at least double, if not triple the kilometrage. Not to mention the fact that I would have to stop every five kilometres and change roads, which means asking directions from people who would never dream of cycling these kind of distances. She suggested the bus, and I considered it while I was having lunch.

I really like the biking and it's such a beautiful day that I wanted to take advantage, but I decided to play it safe and bus myself and my bike the 75 kilometres to Karlstad with intentions to carry on from there on a safer route. From the perspective of inside the bus it seemed even crazier that I had been biking on the side of that highway.

So here I am at a campground. I really like the free camping thing, especially because when you pick your own spot in the wilderness it's obviously gonna be way nicer than parking the tent in a campground, but I needed to do laundry badly, and I suspect the Swedish population is grateful that I took a shower as well. And whattya know, internet! So here I sit all clean with a rye and coke in my hand, my clothes are tumbling around in the dryer, and my logs have been dumped. I'm three or four days outside of Stockholm and I hope that I can get a map in the morning of this different route across Sweden. Hell if I'm gonna bike it, it might as well be a nice ride, especially considering I could bus it all the way to Stockholm for about $50.

The stats:

Time: 2:33.41

Average speed: 19.7

Distance: 50.69

Maximum speed: 52.0

Total distance: 710.52

So the sun is starting to set, I've gone through a good chunk of my whiskey, and I've nothing to do but pore over my maps and go to sleep.

G'nite everybody.

[Velvet]

Hej mannen! Det är nice att sitta här i soffan o spana med dig! Du är cooooool! Like ya man!

Musik för alltid! Du sa Svenska! Jag menade music for ever!

[Velvet]

Thems the rambligs of a real-life Swedish lesbian.

[phorbesie]

i thought you were danish?

[Velvet]

Hardy har har.

Last night was loopy. Once I piece it all together I'll put it in the next log.

Phew!

[phorbesie]

i got a call from v today saying how beautiful stockholm was. i was curious and had to look up some pics. it does look so pretty there!

[Velvet]

Scandinavialog, Stardate 081806

Once again I was greeted with the bluest skies when I woke up and I was feeling so good I had another shower this morning. I rode the six kilometres into Karlstad and found the tourist info booth. Unfortunately they had scant knowledge of bicycle methods of travel towards Stockholm, and outside of the suggestion that I try and follow signs marked "Sverigardenen" and ask directions a lot, they had nothing for me. I went to every bookstore in town in search of the Sverigardenen guidebooks that I saw on the Swedish cycling website, only to find that they are out of print. So with few alternatives I bought a little lunch and started following the signs.

I had hardly begun when I was forced to stop and scrutinize my map. A man stopped his bicycle and asked if I could use some help. "I'm trying to cycle to Stockholm," sayeth I. "Okay, follow me, and after you can ask someone else." Okay. As we meandered along the river I noticed he had two baskets on his bikeö one filled with empty beer cans, the other filled with full beer cans. He apologised for his English, explaining that he was drunk and it made it hard for him to remember the right words. Hmmm, drunk before noon, huh? About one kilometre after we met, he waved his arm in some direction and said Stockholm was that way and I should ask someone else. Great, three hundred similar escorts and I'll be there. I stopped with him where his other alcoholic homeless-looking friends were and we all had a drink or two. Then I headed off. I followed the Sverigardenen signs for a while and then I saw no more, though I was still on one of the many bike paths. After an hour I stopped at a lunchstand and asked a guy to point out where we were on the map. He pointed to Karsltsad. Western Karlstad. Holy macaroni, I did it again. I asked him if he knew what from what with the bike paths and he suggested I try again, and maybe I missed a sign. Slightly exasperated I sat with him for a bit to rest. His name was Marcus and he was a friendly guy; he worked at the lunchstand but had just finished for the day and was enjoying a can of beer. What the hell, I grabbed what was left of yesterday's whiskey and poured us both a drink. Grateful, Marcus went into the lunchstand and got me a sweatshirt with the company logo on it as a gift. After a half-hour or so he asked if I wanted a beer so we walked to a small pub where Marcus knew everyone. After a couple of hours and many beers and a summer plate to snack on, I decided I wasn't likely to go anywhere today. Plus, Marcus explained, today was the beginning of Karlstad's annual Street Festival. The people at the pub were great, in particular a gentleman Marcus introduced as the smartest man in all of Karlstad, and I think he might be right. I have yet to meet anyone on this trip with such an eloquent command of the English language, and we talked about everything. I think he knows as much Canadian geography and history as I do, and he was not showing off. Rather, it was difficult to keep him going, he was always bowing out of the conversation to let other people talk. What a pleasant man. At one point a girl was sitting alone and Marcus called her over and introduced himself and all of us. She had just moved to town and didn't know anyone, and suddenly she knew everyone!

Eventually Marcus said we had a ride, and I tossed my bike into the back of a truck and off we went.

Now let's see if I can piece this all together.

We made it back to the city centre and went to a patio bar in the middle of the Street Festival and met some of Marcus' friends. There was a lot of live music, mainly salsa, and it was a great atmosphere. Lots more beers got consumed and we went to another bar to shoot pool. I left my bike and gear locked up by the patio on my hosts recommendation. More beers and pool. Boy have my stick skills gone to pot since leaving the road with nero; no more whiling away the hours after soundcheck on the pool tables. I was still sharp enough to win every game, but how's this for an added difficulty: in Sweden the rule is whichever pocket you sank your last ball, that is the pocket you must sink the eight ball. If you donät think that makes the game a lot harder, just try it.

We decided for some reason to go to Marcusä apartment, so I grabbed my gear (leaving my bike and tent and spare tire locked to the patio) and the two of us got a ride with another friend (Marcus seemed to know everyone in town) in his gorgous Mercedes convertable. The friend was showing off and somewhere in the five or six kilometre drive he took the car up to 220kms/hr, effortlessly, which was risky as he told me he didn't have the car licensed, insured, or registered. As soon as we walked in the door Marcus grabbed a pellet rifle, loaded it and handed it to me. "All my guests must shoot," he said, indicating that I was to take a potshot at the metal sheet lining his pockmarked bathroom door. I'm not one to shy away from gunplay, especially indoors, so I fired away. Marcus had a quick shower, I changed out of my biking clothes and back to town we went in the Mercedes.

I'm pretty sure we went to another bar - wow we were drunk - and then his phone rang. It was Marcus' moms birthday and she and her daughters were at a bar, would we join them? Of course! More beers and at one point Marcus (who used to be a boxer) almost got into a fight with his sister's boyfriend. Everything got sorted out, no punches were thrown and then the girl we had met at the pub earlier (Elisabeth) called Marcus and joined us at the bar. I drank as much beer as I could drink. Eventually cabs were called, and me, Marcus, and Elisabeth grabbed a cab to Marcus' apartment building. I wanted to grab my bike, but there was certainly no riding it, and the cabs won't take bikes, so I left it, all the while Marcus was assuring me that it would be okay.

We knocked on the door of his downstairs neighbors, a pair of lesbians (that was made quite clear) who curiously were dressed exactly the same. I forgot to ask if they always did that. More drinking, and boy was I starving. I went upstairs and grabbed my tequila and lime and took that back downstairs where we finished it off.

The three of us eventually made our way to Marcus' place where he grabbed me a pillow and a blanket for the couch. I pulled out my sleeping bag and crawled in fully clothed, drunk and exhausted. Elisabeth refused to fire the rifle so Marcus handed the loaded gun to me and I shot it one-handed, lying down without my glasses on. Elisabeth was sitting in the chair across the room and said to me, "Would you like to sleep with me?" "What?!? No!" "You know what I mean?" she asked. "Yes I think so, and no, thank-you." I thought that was a bit odd as we had hardly spoken the whole night. So she asked something of Marcus in Swedish. I assume it was the same question because when he answered her she went into his room and stayed there. It's nice to know that I'm secure enough in my relationship that I wasn't even remotely tempted.

I slept like the dead and snored like a bucksaw. It was glorious.

Edited September 10, 2006 by Guest

[Velvet]

Scandinavialog, Stardate 081906

I wasn't exactly fresh as a daisy when I was awoken this morning at 9am, but then I wasnät puking in the sink either, so we take what we can get. Marcus made coffees for us, we watched some cartoons* and soon enough we called a cab and got back to the city centre. Just as Marcus had promised, my bike and tent and tire were safe and sound. I loaded on the rest of my gear, hugs all around and we parted company. Amazingly nothing in the downtown core opens until 11am on Saturday so I bided my time, circled the cobbled streets, and eventually had some lunch and went back to the tourist bureau. The guy I spoke to was more knowledgable on the Sverigardenen path than yesterday's attendant, but unfortunately he had this to say: "It was a project that didn't go anywhere, the path is not done. You can follow it but there will be places where it just stops and you'll be facing a field or a river. Further along somewhere the path will pick up again." Super. I checked out the bus schedules and was told that bikes are only accepted on the bus when there is room; that is when the bus is fairly empty, and it is up to the individual driver to decide whether to charge extra for the bike or not.

Okay, my plan then was to try the Sverigardenen and see if I could get a town or two over, and then maybe hop on the bus. So off I went.

The path is sporadically extrememly well marked. There are Sverigardenen signs constantly, though occasionally the arrows point the wrong way. I found where I had lost my way yesterday; the sign pointed me the wrong way, but when I explored the other way I found the signs again. I spent about an hour finding, losing, and finding the signs. It was quite frustrating in that as soon as I would notice I hadn't seen a sign in a kilometre or two I would backtrack until I found where the signs had steered me wrong. I got to the next town over, about 15 kilometres, and the sign took me right to the dreaded E18, on a section where bikes aren't allowed. I backtracked yet again and found a myriad of paths to check. To be honest, it just wasnät any fun at all. I decided to fuck the bike path and see about that bus to Stockholm.

I arrived literally the minute the bus arrived, which was lucky 'cuz it was ten minutes late. Also luckily it was an express bus so the driver knew there would be no more luggage or people added after this stop, and he was happy to take the bike at no extra charge. The bus cost less than $40.

Riding around in Oslo and Stavanger and a few other towns versus riding through the countryside is really no comparison. Though the rural areas are pretty, they very much remind me of Canada, and often I feel like I'm riding through Newfoundland again. So pitting that against the idea of spending several days in these cool cities makes it a lot easier to justify sitting on a bus. Oh the folly of home-made plans! One of the downsides to this is I don't think I'm losing any weight.

So here I am in Stockholm, widely regarded as the world's most beautiful capital city. As the bus emerged from the tunnel entering the city I couldn't help but to say "Wow" out loud. It was fairly late in the day so I headed straight to the city camping area which unfortunately closes for the season tomorrow, so I'll have to move to a less conveniently located campground tomorrow. I hit a grocery store for some beer and food and searched in vain for a payphone. Damn cellphones. I've been trying to call home for a couple of days now; the last campground I was at had a credit card phone, but I had to swipe my card about twenty times before it would scan, and then I couldn't dial. Ultimately I realised that the number two wasn't working. Grrrr. So I tried the operator assisted version (after another 20 swipes) which said, "For calls to anywhere but Canada, press one, for calls to Canada, press two." Double grrrrr. I went to two different 7/11's today in hopes of finding a long distance calling card. "We only have cards that will load up a cell phone." Double-damn cell phones.

So now as darkness settles in I'm back at the tent, made some dinner (I'm getting bloody sick of pasta) and now a few light beers (3.5% is the strongest beer you can buy in Sweden on the weekends outside of going to a bar) and some sleep. I'm very much looking forward to exploring Stockholm. I'll let you know how it goes.

Here's the stats for the last two days in and around Karlstad:

Time: 3:41.12

Average speed: 15.1

Distance: 55.65

Maximum speed: 44.0

Total distance: 766.16

*One of the first things I asked Marcus was why he had the name "Homer" tattooed on his arm. "It's for Homer Simpson," he said, "He's my hero."

[Velvet]

Scandinavialog, Stardate 082006

Woke up, packed up, and took a nice meandering ride to the other campsite, about twelve kilometres away. Every sidestreet had a Sunday market happening; everything from fruits and veggies to antique cameras to huge piles of albums. I bought some batteries and a used novel (I finished and reread A Prayer For Owen Meany by John Irving and I highly recommend it). It's difficult to describe just how remarkably visually stunning this city is. Perhaps it has to do with the fact that I've never been to Europe before; having not experienced places like Florence or Prague leaves me unaccustomed to the staggering architecture and, well, I guess you would call it European flair. Anyway, laden with a full load on my bike I made it a short exploration and found my way to the campground.

I selected my site well. I was camped beside a couple from England, Grant and Louise, among the few English-as-a-first-language people I've met on this trip. They were just packing up as I was setting up but Grant offered me a beer, then another, and soon he broke out some fine Afghani hash and before you know it they were setting up their tent again. He is a teacher and former full-time rock photographer, she is a glass artist. The talk turned to music: The Beatles, Nirvana, Bowie, and cars; he is a big Saab fan and they had come from a Saab festival and were on their way to the Saab museum, and he was driving a beautiful red 1990 Saab convertable (the same car the guys smash up in the movie 'Sideways') that his friend had given him, if you can believe that. Anyway, we had a great time whiling away most of the afternoon. Just up from our site is a rocky outcrop that has a great view of the lake we are camped on. We sat up there for more beers and smokes and decided to head into Stockholm for dinner.

The subway is just a short walk from the campground and we took it into the city. We got off and scaled a million stairs up to an observation deck of sorts overlooking Stockholm. Breathtaking. There are no skyscrapers, just jumbles of old buildings all interconnected with spires and steeples punctuating the skyline. Every direction was another postcard perfect view. We did a great walkabout searching for a restaurant that looked good and fit our budget and ended up at a pizza place. We grabbed a table out on the cobbled sidewalk across from a nice little park and ate our fill and washed it down with another beer or two. I hit a grocery store on our way back to the tube for some (3.5%) beers and snacks for later and we got back to the campsite in time to watch the sun go down over the lake.

I had spied a telephone at the campground so I gave it a shot. I bet I spent almost an hour trying to call Heather and gave up. An hour later I tried again and got through! Mid-conversation the line went dead and the display screen told me the credit card had reached it's phone limit (this is the first time I've used my credit card on the whole trip). I tried for about ten more minutes to call back and was consistently told the card was "banned". Again I waited an hour and tried again but this time I was out of luck. I felt bad, but it was really nice to talk to her.

Went back to the site for a few more beers and another joint or two and went to sleep. It wasn't exactly the day I had planned, but I had a good time and that's what vacations are for, right?

Edited August 22, 2006 by Guest
To correct the punctuation. Lots of keys are different on the keyboards here, and when I unload the Alphasmart I always gotta go through them and make the changes.

[Gateaux]

Christ these are lifesavers on a Monday morning. Keep it up Todd!!!

[paisley]

been saving getting into this until now...

truly awesome vicariously travelin along with ya again! a beautiful read...

keep livin large n drinkin deep

[ollie]

Hej mannen! Det är nice att sitta här i soffan o spana med dig! Du är cooooool! Like ya man!

Musik för alltid! Du sa Svenska! Jag menade music for ever!

Um...

Hey man! You have a nice site here I could spend all day. You are cool! Like, yeah man!

Music for everyone! You are in Sweden! And make music forever!

Just a guess.

[kookycanooky]

081806 is the best one yet!!

[phorbesie]

marcus sounds like fun!!

[headymamamyrna]

marcus sounds like fun!!

He sure does except for the gun!

[Dr_Evil_Mouse]

And here I thought Tom Robbins was going to be the best read I'd get in all summer. Thanks, Todd . Carry on!