Not Much To Say

Paying that hospital bill was pretty easy - I just went to the Svensk Kassaservice (Swedish Cashier Service) which are little places dotted all over the city where you can pay your bills, for a cost of 49kr (£3.77). All I had to do, was show them the bill, give them the money, and that was that. It didn't matter at all that I was paying it a few days late. Similarly, Dmytro said he has paid his rent here late a few times, and there have been no repercussions.

Placement has been pretty good; I'm in Grodan (frog) group, where the children are 3years old. Some of them are so cute, and they have very Swedish names like Irma, Erling and Arvid. I've been trying to speak Swedish to them, which is easiest at meal times (speaking of which, I get lunch for free there - last Friday, I told one of the teachers that I liked the pizza, so she told the cook lady, who gave me a whole pizza's worth of leftovers to take home), because I know how to say "Would you like some milk? Would you prefer this one, or this one? Here you are".
They play with the same train track I had when I was little, which is quite funny. One child, Anton, goes MENTAL if you touch the track while he's playing with it. In fact, he gets really stressed, quite easily at pretty much anything, and just starts screeching. It just makes me laugh. Like, he'll ask you to put a tape on, so he can listen to a story, and then if he can't quite hear it, he just goes "AAAARRRRRRGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!" and his face goes really red. But he'll calm down instantly if he gets what he's after.

There's not really much else to say. I mean, not many interesting things have happened. I blame the international committee, because they haven't organised a single thing since I've been here. And there are only 5 people in my class that are my age, and 4 of them live really far away, so it's not that easy to arrange to do something.

Insurance

So after the whole insurance-cover-starting-a-month-later-than-it-was-meant-to fiasco, I've realised that I still haven't actually paid my hospital bill from last month. Which is now officially a problem, because the bill says they wanted to be paid by 2 days ago. I wrote my England address on the thing, so family - you may get an angry Swedish letter demanding money in the next few days. And then if I don't pay, I guess they'll come and take my thumbs; and then I'll have to go back to the hospital to receive treatment for that, and then if I don't pay for that visit, then the whole vicious cycle continues...

Other Stuff

Also - much thanks to everyone who sent me cards and presents; they all arrived a few days after my birthday, and were very appreciated.

I'm on placement now and will be for the next 3 weeks or so. I get lunch for free (which I'd previously been told didn't exist), so that is nice. I'm also having to talk Swedish, because the children only speak and understand Swedish. All I can really do at the moment are basic "What is your name? What is that?" phrases.

Also, on the train, there was an advert which started off saying 'Hallå där', which I guess means 'Hello there'. It's pronounced 'Hallor dair' - say it out loud. Go on, say it, and try telling me you're not actually just saying 'Hello there' in an Irish accent.

'Mon the Biffy!

Getting to the gig was no problem in the end; just got the tube and bus, and that was that. The venue was quite small – it had a standing area at the front, and loads of seats at the back. My ticket was for sitting in one of these seats at the back, but once I got in, I noticed that it didn’t matter at all if I was sitting or standing – there was no one regulating it (don’t worry, I don’t consider it stealing – there was no difference in price between sitting and standing). Biffy Clyro got right into the swing of being in Sweden, starting promptly at 7:30. I literally walked into the venue as a small cheer went up, and the opening of ‘57’ started; and then I just went straight to the standing section – I’m not sitting down for Biffy Clyro and Bloc Party, that would be pointless.
Anyway – the setlist (for those who may be interested):
57
Who’s Got a Match?
Saturday Superhouse
Love Has a Diameter
Get Fucked Stud
Now I’m Everyone
The Kids From Kibble and the Fist of Light
Living is a Problem Because Everything Dies
Glitter & Trauma

Surprisingly, nothing from Vertigo of Bliss; unfortunately, no Wave Upon Wave Upon Wave; depressingly, only a 30-minute set. Literally, only 3 people were there to see Biffy – they were the only people really getting into the songs, and they knew all the words to the stuff that hasn’t been released yet. A lot of people cheered when they said “This is our last song”. Still, they played well (especially the new stuff), and it makes me want to see them again. When Bloc Party started, it was like being at a different gig – suddenly the venue filled up, and everyone was interested in the music. I somehow got pushed pretty much right to the front, which was cool. I’m not gonna write the set-list – they played for an hour and a half, and pretty much played everything from both albums. They were really good, but by the end, I just wanted a drink of water. To be honest, I was mainly there to see Biffy anyway.

Between the two bands playing, the venue blasted out ultra-cool tracks like ‘Something Kinda Ooh’ by Girls Aloud, and that Li’l Chris song that goes ‘Ch-ch-ch-checking it out’; behind me, two girls were singing along, and one of them said something like “I shouldn’t know the words to this” and I turned round to say “You should be ashamed of yourselves”. Then I thought “Hang on...”, turned round and said “Wait – are you English?” One was from Liverpool and the other from Brighton; I talked to them for a short while, but I can’t really remember what about. And after the gig, I had to wait an hour for the bus (it was a bank holiday, so the buses came every half an hour – obviously the first one got packed out cos everyone had JUST BEEN TO A GIG), but that was alright, cos I just chatted to some people who were waiting for the same bus.

Anyway, that was that – in conclusion, it was a lovely gig.

My Birthday

As luck would have it, the Universities round here have a big celebration to mark springtime arriving. Tomorrow there will be huge bonfires, and last night there was the annual pubcrawl. Although, it wasn’t really pubs, so much as different Universities (there are 19 in Stockholm, the city of Unis) having big parties. It was all a strangely organised and traditional event; it started at 5pm at my Uni, and I had to pay 50kr (about £3.80) to get in. The 50kr bought me a nice little festival-style green wristband, which allowed me free access to the rest of the pubs and the buses between them. So yeah, I went around 5:15, got my wristband, and bought one of their ‘famous sandwiches’ – basically a huge steak & salad sandwich. That must have been well filling, thinking about it, cos I didn’t eat anything for another 8 hours, and even then, I could have gone without what I had. Anyway, I sat down with my steak sandwich and... ate it. Alone. I was expecting there to be SOMEONE that I had even seen before. But literally, no one at all. And come on, we all know me – I’m not the sort of person who’s gonna try and infiltrate a group of complete strangers. But it wasn’t all bad – generally, if someone says ‘Hej’ to me, I try to say ‘Hi’, rather than ‘Hey’, so they know I’m English. So when I was buying my gigantic sandwich, I said ‘Hi’, and a guy next to me (whose eyes were the EXACT same colour as Tamsin’s. It stirred up strange feelings) told me that that is Swedish for ‘shark’. Actually, he didn’t say shark, he said something like “creature, that moves through water and bites people!” And yeah, the girl serving me the sandwich talked to me for a little bit as well. Anyway, a bit later on, he saw me sitting there on my larry lonesome, and came and talked to me again; he then said he was going inside, so I went with him, and the sandwich girl was there, so I talked to her for a bit. Then she said “Hold on a sec”, and went and got a TV, a PlayStation and that dancing mats game. I tried playing it for a short while, but I failed miserably. I’ve never played it before, or now that I think about it, even seen it being played. But to me, it’s just like Donkey Konga with your feet. So, a worse version of Donkey Konga.

Anyway, by this time it was about 7pm (I missed out about an hour or so where I sat by myself), and I... found some familiar faces! No one from my class was there, but some American girls were. I don’t know if I talked about them before – I met them the second night I was here, cos three of them had a birthday. I can’t remember how many of them there are overall – they’re all from Texas, and look exactly the same; they’re so typically American, it’s unbelievable. One of them actually asked someone if they wanted a ‘brewski’. Speaking of alcoholic beverages – they were only selling beer and cider at 5pm, so I opted for a cider. Boy was that a mistake. It was a disgusting, sweet, pear cider, and it was simply horrible. Hang on, I’ve lost the thread of this part of the story – yeah, saw the American girls, and they said I should hang out with them, so I did. Pretty much as soon as I saw them though, someone with a megaphone came over and said that the first bus was here. So, we went and got the bus. These were just the normal public transport buses, except inside they were filled with balloons and... can’t think of the words to describe. Colourful papers, hanging across the ceiling, anyway. And every seat had a songsheet of traditional Swedish drinking songs. This is what I mean about it being strangely organised and traditional. Oh yeah, how could I have forgotten – all the Swedes were wearing purple jumpsuits, covered in random stitched-on badges; this is also some tradition, but I don’t really know what it’s about; but basically, more badges indicates more nights of drunkenness. It’s a shame I didn’t take my camera.

The next place was Karolinska Institutet, which is the University part of the hospital I went to a few weeks ago. This place was like the first Uni, except it had karaoke. I asked at the bar if they had whiskey, but they didn’t; so I asked for cider again, expecting that what they gave me at my own Uni was some sick joke. Turns out that cider in Sweden, really is for people who have no tastebuds. I can’t really think of anything else that was particularly remarkable about this place, except maybe that some guy did a lovely rendition of Hit Me Baby One More Time. Lovely as in humorous. We stayed there for about another 2 hours, so I think we missed a few buses to other places. At some point between 9-10pm, we got the bus to... somewhere else. This was a tiny little pub, but it was quite nice. I ordered a whiskey, and the woman said “what sort?” I asked what they had, and she showed me a box with about 9 different bottles. None of them were Bell’s or Jack Daniels, so I took the chance to try something new, and said “I don’t mind.” So she gave me a ‘Jameson’. Jameson smells like coconut, and tastes like crap. At least, it does according to the note I left on my phone, to remind myself never to purchase it again.

We stayed there for a little while, then walked to the next place, which was actually more of a club. Being the old man that I am, I just wanted to sit down. There was a girl sitting down at a table by herself, but there was only one empty chair next to her, and that chair was between her and the wall. After a few minutes, I turned around and she wasn’t there, so I sat down on the chair next to the wall; I put my coat on the other chair, to save the table for the Americans, who were at the bar getting drinks. Not long after, the girl came back, so I said to her “Oh wait, did I steal your seat?” She said “Not a problem”, so I moved my coat and she sat next to me. She was really chatty, which was nice, cos it would have felt quite awkward just sitting next to a stranger silently. Her name was Lina, and she was studying English (she’s Swedish, by the way); she talked English English, rather than American English as most Swedes tend to do. For about a second, I mistook her accent for that of a real English person thingy; she was really pleased when I told her that. We chatted away for quite a bit, mostly about the Government (which is strange cos I never talk about the government), trying desperately to hear each other over the increasing volume of the music. After a while, some of her friends came along, so she went off with them; but before she left, she told me that there were taps at the end of the hall where one could easily get a free cup of water, and for this she will always be remembered.
By the time she left, the Americans were all sitting down at the next table, so I went back and joined them. At about 11:30pm, I thought that I should get a nice drink to have for when I would turn 21, and also to eradicate the memory of that Jameson whiskey. So I went to the bar, asked for a whiskey and he apologetically said “Sorry... all we have is Jim Beam.” I said this was fine, and bought it anyway. It wasn’t until I started drinking it, that I realised why he apologised. Simply put, the worst alcohol I’ve ever had; I longed for the putrid flavour of that ghastly pear cider. Jim Beam smells and tastes of nuts, and was just plain bad.

So anyway, it turned midnight and everyone wished me a happy birthday; and Tamsin, gorgeous sweetheart that she is, rang me up to say happy birthday as well. At least, I assume she was saying happy birthday, I couldn’t hear what she was saying so well. I left with a few of the Americans (who live by the same station as me) at about 12:45, purchasing a burger on the way (the first food since that huge sandwich – and as I say, I could have easily gone without). I think the trains were running all through the night, because this weekend is a national drinking holiday – I could be wrong, but I think Monday and Tuesday are bank holidays as well.

Anyway, that was my night last night, and generally how I celebrated turning 21. No cards came in the post, by the way, but I got a fair few e-mails. Ooh, that's the other thing - woke up this morning, and guess what my hair smelt of? That's right - nothing. No one smokes here, it's excellent. Today, I bought a ‘Daim’ bar cheesecake, which hopefully will be incredibly nice. And I am making myself a nice cottage pie as well. It might sound weird, but I like the fact that if I do that, it will last 4 meals – meaning I know what I’ll be having each night for dinner until Tamsin gets here on Thursday. Which I simply cannot wait for.

Fotboll

This evening was pretty much a perfect football-watching experience. Man Utd beat another Italian team at Old Trafford (only 3-2 this time against AC Milan, rather than 7-1 against AS Roma a few weeks ago), and it was a really good game of football. But what I really enjoyed about it, was that I watched it with Dmytro. I think I mentioned him the other day, he's from Ukraine, and he reminds me quite a bit of Jon; he's Jon's age, in fact. It was nice because most of last year and all of this year at Canterbury, I've watched football on my own; football's so much better to watch with someone else who is as interested in it as you are. So I really appreciated watching it with Dmytro, eating a bag of crisps, drinking beer. OK, you know me too well - I wasn't drinking beer, I was drinking whisky. But he was drinking beer; beer needs to be drought at some point during football. Wait, no, it needs to be drunk. Why the hell did I say drought? Ooh, I know, it must be because the past tense of think is thought, so drink could be drought. I need to cut down on the whisky, maybe? Yeah, anyway, it was really nice, I don't have too many male friends, so it was nice to do something typically male.

In other news, my travelcard ran out today, meaning I've been here for a month now. Isn't that mad? Doesn't seem that long at all.

Address

With my birthday coming up, I thought I'd write my address here so that you can send me nice things. If you can't remember it as well, just look on the side panel which has all my blog titles - I've thoughtfully named this one 'address', so you can easily find it. And here is the address in question:

Armégatan 32 - 825
171 71
Solna
Sweden


Armégatan 32 is the name of the building, and 825 is my room number. 171 71 is the postcode and you can guess the next two.

EDIT - people have told me there's some weirdness before the word Sweden; I can't see it on my computer, so I can't delete it. But it should be Armegatan 32 - 825, then 171 71, then Solna, then Sweden. Hope this clears that up.