Eurotrip: Epilogue

For this final chapter, I shall revert to the more natural tense - the Past.

For the first few chapters, I wrote the account shortly after the day itself, with the memory of the events freshly burnt into my head. Indeed, the whole Scene of London Parts I and II, and Paris as well, were written in their namesake cities. However, as you might have suspected, writing the entries soon caught up with me; the effort involved in writing these accounts exceeded the amount of energy I had left after a long day of wandering the streets of the particular European City. Hence, it goes like this: the middle chapters were completed in the later city (e.g. Geneva was completed in Venice etc) while the final chapters (Germany onwards) were only completed back in Singapore.

All in all, this whole account has taken me a grand total of a year and a half to put together - partly because of my other commitments. IF anyone was waiting patiently for this account, my apologies, and I can assure you it is VERY taxing to sustain the energy for a whole month of Eurotripping.

All in all, I'm glad I've done this. Terrible grammar aside - I'm an engineer who is more naturally inclined towards numbers than words - I'm glad this account is up.

Also, I'm relatively certain that if you have reached this far, you probably have a great deal of patience. Or you are future-me. So congratulations.

*

Anyway, that good-bye was premature - I still have a little bit of this story left to tell.

I usually have one rule regarding footwear on an aircraft - don't wear slippers. On that final day, I was forced to break that rule. One thing about the weather being nice and cool - it doesn't dry wet shoes very well. So we ended up being forced to carry our shoes on board.

In Skavsta airport, we made the final settlements to the accounts - we had to pay Lase back in Euros before we left, because the other three of us could settle the accounts in other (more useful to us) forms of currency. For example the S$. My wonderful program to handle this "who-pays-who" issue (ask me about it if you want to know more) handled this issue in seconds and then it was time to say goodbye to the Swedish man whom we had spent the last month with.

In some ways I'm glad for the technology of this world which makes it such that its possible for me to talk to my Swedish friend in Sweden more often than my Singaporean friends in the same country as me. So goodbye isn't really goodbye till you go to a place inaccessible to the all-encompassing WiFi. Internet, rather.

A minor complication - Eugene, who had decided to come along on this Eurotrip after us, wasn't taking the same flight as Gobi or I. He was taking the flight to London that was about 5 hours later. So he had to kill about 5 hours in Skavsta airport alone.

We felt bad for him because I, for one, hadn't realised the implications of having a flight of a different timing. But all turned out well in the end.

We flew earlier to London, managed to get down to a hostel (Gobi's room was unavailable now) and checked in. Interesting fact - we checked into a very familiar hostel - the Meininger again. So that made it the third different hostel of that chain that we stayed at. But I will maintain that the Munich one was the best.

We didn't stay long, because sooner rather than later we were out again to Victoria station to wait for Eugene. While waiting for him, we grabbed dinner there.

By the time Eugene arrived, it was quite late, and the Tube was not working. So we had to walk back. Not a long walk, but we did share out the burden of Eugene's heavy backpack. Turns out he was delayed at Stansted. I'm still not sure of the reason for the delay. But my flight was the earliest of the three flights - note we were all flying different carriers, all flying at different times. So we went to sleep. By then, it was already 3.30am in the morning. And I know I was wondering about the purpose of booking that hostel in the end.

*

All fears of oversleeping and missing the flight were unfounded, ultimately, as we woke up the next day bright and early. We grabbed some buns from the supermarket for breakfast but there wasn't really much time - my flight was at 11am, so I had to be at the airport by 9am.

Gobi and Eugene didn't accompany me to the airport, not that I'd expected it considering their flights were at 3pm and 5pm approximately. So we said goodbye at the Tube station - a temporary goodbye only considering that we'd be seeing each other within the next 24 hours - and I took the Tube to Heathrow.

As it turned out, Gobi's flight was overbooked so they bumped him, offering a hefty compensation and accommodation, so it was about 48hours before I next saw him.

*

The Eurotrip was long. You'd know if you reached this far, as I've mentioned. But it was a colourful adventure. I can think of so many things that we did that the average tourist would not do - go down to a steamer engine room, go stand next to a giant windmill, swim in a swedish lake, jump in front of a man in a train carriage, night cycling in Paris, etc.

And so I wouldn't consider us "tourists" in the conventional definition of the word. And the Eurotrip should not be considered a "tour" of Europe. Educational adventure, perhaps.

As I'm writing this account way too late, I can tell you that that wasn't the last time I went to Europe. In fact, the next account documents my Family Trip to Spain. Again, that account was written way too late. But you know what they say. Better Late than Never.

Previous - Act 14 Sweden II

Eurotrip: Act 14 - The Sweden Roadtrip II

Scene 34 - 23rd July

Linkoping has become comfortable for us. No surprise there; we are living in a bachelor pad (at least we think so). And of course, being Asian, you can't leave out the "for free!" part. So, yes, we have become comfortable sitting quietly in Linkoping.

Before I started this account, I would reckon that not many of you would actually have known where Linkoping is, and even for those of you who recognise the word, I don't reckon you would have known how to pronounce it. There's good reason - its not really a tourist hot-spot. But, that being said, is Sweden?

Well, what would you say is the first thing that comes to mind with the word "Sweden"? Stockholm? Nobel Prizes? Socialism? (really?) IKEA? (that's a popular one).

To me, (and a lot of people who listen to the rubbish that I speak) the first thing that comes to mind is Henrik Larsson. And not the footballer. In any case, while this particular national icon of Sweden resides in Linkoping, the rest tend to conglomerate further north - and hence, there we will be going.

Besides, our flight to London is from Stockholm, so we don't really have much of a choice.

It also means that we are sacrificing the comforts of home-stay once again for that of hostel-stay. It should be re-iterated that there is no comfort like home-stay. And I'm not saying it from the Asian stereotype of cost-consciousness which we all (save Larsson, of course) fulfill.

Departure from Linkoping in the Larsson-mobile (can I call it that?) is approximately around noon, mainly because one does not usually feel like waking up too early when one stays in a bachelor pad and one has been travelling Europe for the past few weeks. After our usual yoghurt och knäckebröd, we make our way across the Swedish countryside once more, guided by yonder satellites (GPS) all the way.

1400hrs, we arrive at the most well known Swedish landmark.

Yes. IKEA.

True story. Apparently, the world's largest IKEA outlet is appropriately in its home country's capital city (Stockholm). Do note, we aren't sure about this fact, but hey who'd know? Considering we are mostly foreigners who are flying budget (flight) back to London in a few days time (sigh) - and budget doesn't allow too much luggage, in case you didn't know - we really don't have much business being in this place. But, for once, window-shopping is marginally attractive to us.

In fact, as we walk through this mega-centre, Gobi and I come up with great ideas for remodelling and re-designing furniture - basically creating innovative ideas for the future of Furniture. I think it was being inspired by the creative designs of IKEA. Its a similar feeling when you walk through Daiso.

If you don't know the feeling, go walk through Daiso. If you still don't, get an engineering degree and then walk through Daiso. If that still doesn't work, you probably have to go get an engineering degree from any non-Asian country away from rote-learning culture. Anyway, enough criticism of Education, and more telling of the story of Stockholm.

Where was I?

Oh yes, we scribble down these designs on the back of the paper we are supposed to make our orders with, with the pencils we are supposed to mark our orders with.

An interesting side note - these pencils were free. And if you knew Gobi (or his family, or any Indian in general) you'd know that we can't resist. If you have plenty of time, you could watch this: Mind Your Language Season 01 Episode 5. It IS a stereotype. And as all stereotypes are, it is engendered in truth. I think he took a total of 8. I took only 4. But it probably can be considered as a good souvenir for the folks back at home; and I'm sure he'll give one to Vibha and tell her it cost a lot. Just as sure as I am of she accepting it gratefully and putting it in a souvenir cabinet.

Mind Your Language S01E05.

Anyway, most people don't go to IKEA to get free pencils. Gobi told Lase that the smartest part of IKEA's strategy was that they give the customer that joy of putting their furniture together while simultaneously saving the cost of assembly - brilliant business. Lase, who, as I have mentioned, has already given up arguing against white-man-superiority, agreed.

Lunch is at IKEA itself. Even back home, IKEA is famous for selling its famous Swedish Meatballs. I think it is called diversification, or something like that. Anyway, we have lunch there; and amazingly, the price, after conversion, is cheaper than the Swedish meatballs they sell in Singapore Ikea. Scam! But awesome food none-the-less. I think it cost me about S$5 in total (including drinks etc). Considering this is Sweden, which is famously expensive (even if its not the most expensive Scandinavian country), that's an absolute bargain.

The Giant Ikea is slightly outside Stockholm proper so we take awhile more before we are in Stockholm proper amongst the Islands.

Again, I think a brief introduction to the City on Islands is warranted. Why do they call it City on Islands? Erm. Because it is built on many Islands. It is the capital city and largest city in Sweden, and it is connected by lots and lots of bridges connecting the Islands together. It's quite an interesting concept to have a city built upon islands, if you ask me.

Ok I guess there's really not much to introduce to Stockholm.

Anyway, what is so special about Stockholm, is that for the first time, we aren't staying on dry land. Our hostel is a boat. Now, you'd probably have expected this in Venice; so probably this is a good time to mention that Stockholm is actually known somewhere sometimes as the Venice of the North. But here I would like to point out that that's a terrible misnomer. Lase boasted on the way here why not - Stockholm's water is clean. Remember the Venice canals and what they're used for? Now, Stockholm's water is clean enough, apparently, for drinking.

Anyway, we check into our boat, and get ready for exploration, knowing full well that the sun is not likely to set on us anytime soon.

One thing interesting, the weather has finally begun to seem like the European summers that I was familiar with - with the temperature not going above 20 degrees Celcius.. (Celcius was Swedish too! Woohoo!). Makes me terrified of how bad the Swedish winter would be like. Anyway, Stockholm is not a hustling bustling city like you'd probably expect from a city that is such a major business hub - its quiet.

Reminds me of Parkway Parade more than it does of Orchard Road.

As we walk aimlessly about in the City of Islands, we dodge among the numerous cyclists characteristic of any Scandinavian major city, and hop from one island to the next. On the way to the Royal Palace, we pass by an impressive building. Not to mention significant.

In this building has sat some of the greatest minds and hearts and people of generations of past; all waiting to receive their prize. Yes, this is the hall where the Nobel Prizes are given out. Interesting fact that you might not have known - Alfred Nobel was Swedish too. More on this later.

Anyway, at long last given the numerous distractions and the pleasant weather, we reach the Royal Palace.

Why we were so keen on visiting the Royal Palace can be explained simply in one word - Eugene. He wanted to visit his Aryan heritage. Plus he wanted to see the blonde princess of Sweden in hopes of wooing her successfully. Poor Henrik Larsson, been used as a stepping stone for greater things. I probably mentioned this before, but we started to realise that, surrounded by the multitude of other blonde-hair-blue-eyed swedes, Henrik Larsson was ordinary; just as Eugene was suddenly unique (recall the Swedish Lake incident).

But the princess wasn't there - turns out that this palace is just the official residence of the royal family; their summer home is elsewhere.

But at least there's no Horse Dung.

Walking back the sun is setting over the City of Islands. The temperature is dropping rapidly; it's bordering on uncomfortably cold at 15 degrees now.

Back on board, I check my email. I have not been able to keep in contact with Singapore very well thanks to a giant San Andreas Fault dividing my monitor screen; but I manage to check my email today - apparently (completely independently from our adventures today) my mum is redesigning my room's furniture. I briefly convey my surprise at the coincidentality of it all (that we just visited IKEA and that I was remodelling my room in my head while there), and then go back to hide out away from the rapidly falling temperatures.

Scene 35 - 24th July

Today we awoke to a cold morning in Stockholm, and we take that as an awesome sign that the weather is going to be kind to us today. Today we also awoke on board the Rygerford - the boat-cum-hostel that we are staying on. I still find it an interesting concept to be staying "at sea" because technically we are still docked. Yet when I look out the window its obvious that I'm on a boat.

Today we are off to see the Vasa. Its not big surprise to know that it is a ship - one that had sunk and was pulled up relatively recently. Lase hadn't seen it, and was keen on it - so we say okay. After all, we don't really know what else there could be to do in Stockholm. Apart from maybe kidnap someone and see what the syndrome is all about.

*

The queue to the Vasa museum is relatively short. Later we would realise that that's only because we have come to this place at a relatively ungodly hour. Early morning, city sleeps.

Now what is an account if you do not follow my learning path. For you know, the story of the Vasa is a very interesting one - its nothing like the story of the Titanic. Well, except for the fact that it sank on its maiden voyage. For four engineers on the trip, one conclusion was clear - never get an artist to do an engineers job. Result: the Vasa. She sailed out, only to collapse just a few minutes into her maiden voyage - let me reiterate, a few MINUTES - due to being blown by a slightly-more-than-a-breeze gust of wind. And into the Baltic fell her, with her countless ornaments and adornments.

The Vasa was a military ship, the grandest in the fleet, a measure of the grandness and the might of the Swedish Navy. Because of that, well, it looked like this:

I'm not sure if you need to be an expert on ships to realise that it looks a bit unstable. Basically the mast was way too high (which leads to a relatively high centre of gravity which leads to instability).

Credit to the artists - the ship is beautiful. And credit to the Baltic. Its special conditions preserved the ship from decay mostly, so that despite spending about 133 years at the bottom of the Baltic, its still hasn't completely rotted away. In fact, most of its ornaments are still there.

The ornaments are mainly stocked all around the museum, while the ship's main body dominates the foyer in the same was the dinosaur dominates the foyer in London's Natural History Museum.

As we exit the museum, we see the immensely long queue waiting to get in. After all, it is a Saturday.

*

Our general plan for today - which happens also to be our last full day in Stockholm - is to take a ferry ride just as we did Sydney. By the way we ended up getting lost on the ferries in Sydney. But this is Stockholm.

However, first up is a visit to another museum - the Nobel Museum.

As mentioned, Alfred Nobel was Swedish. However, apparently he was one of the first true global citizens and didn't really spend too much time in Sweden. But still, his museum is, ultimately, in Stockholm. Photography is not allowed as expected; and probably not much to say about it. Except for the fact that we have learnt that Alfred Nobel was a global citizen living in a time when global citizenship was unheard of. You wouldn't actually think too much about it, but the act of making the Nobel Prizes available to everyone regardless of nationality, in itself, was revolutionary and unheard of.

*

So, now, on to the islands. Unfortunately the weather is not too kind to us today. The insane heat wave of the rest of the Eurotrip has given way to some rain. And an incessant patter of rain, at that. Add that together with the strong winds and you don't really have the perfect weather to go out on a boat ride. But we do.

Finding the correct combination of ferries to get us places is hard in itself - remember it is Saturday and things don't work as often as they do on weekdays. After all, its Sweden, where holidays and a balanced lifestyle are appreciated and respected.

Nonetheless, we being us manage to find our way.

Its a very different type of rain from what we are used to back home. Its 'sharp' and biting, not wet and sloshy like Singapore Rain. Wind-breakers would protect us well from the rain, but unfortunately only Lase and I have them. Fortunately I have raincoats. Unfortunately, these raincoats are designed for Singapore Rain. To the random passer-by, Gobi and Eugene look like they're wearing plastic bags.

But we don't let the rain spoil our trip. We visit a fort - there's something significant about it - but I'm not too sure what though. Its a strange fort, though; it has very modern cannons mounted on its turrets, next to those ancient type of cannons.

To get here we actually had to change ferries somewhere, and the second trip was just across about 50m of water. Probably swim-able. But would probably be something like the climb-able-ness of the cliff at Lund. So we just take the second ferry.

There is a couple getting married at the Fort. Strange place to get married, I know, but we try to avoid being in any pictures out of courtesy while definitely being kay-poh (curious). There are steps to climb up to the top of the fort. So we climb them. Inside the fort, aptly we took refuge from the fine rain. On the roof, we are attacked by another assailant - a misplaced bumblebee. We still manage to enjoy the view.

The Island across the straits is actually that Island where we changed ferries, by the way. Anyway, after we get tired of dodging the wind and the rain (they themselves were quite vicious) and the bumblebee, we make our way back down to the wedding feast and from their circumvent Fort Island.

Gobi really looks like he's wearing a plastic bag when the wind blows, but when it stops, he looks a bit like GobiWan Kenobi. So he mimes holding a lightsaber and we promise to put it in using photoshop. (side note: that photo went MIA soon afterward)

*

Back across on to Ferry-Interchange Island (obviously these aren't their real names) we wait for our transfer back to Stockholm. Going back, we take a steamer, rather than a ferry. Difference being that it runs on steam. Another difference is that it takes at least 20min longer. But its the last of the ferries back, so we don't really have much of a choice. We trudge in cowering from the rain, and a friendly white guy - British by the sound of his accent - actually thinks that Gobi is wearing a trash bag and commends him on his ingenuity and innovation. He doesn't realise it actually is a sham designed-for-Singapore-rain free raincoat.

Turns out this guy is a steamer expert from Wales. And naturally Gobi regresses into the British accent. The thing about the British accent - haven't heard it in some time - is that it is still more understandable than the Aussie accent, so I still am able to listen to what he's saying. Lase and his disciple don't, though; they're antisocial.

The guy (I didn't catch his name) is part of a steamer preservation board and enlightens us on the fact that these steamers are actually about a hundred years old at least. Putting that into perspective, they were built before the Titanic. Apparently the same conditions (or at least similar conditions) i.e. low salinity of the Baltic makes it very attractive for these old steamers to sit in - it make them resist corrosion relatively well.

The Welsh-Steamer-Expert is friends with the captain and apparently has permission to go down to the steamer's engine room. So when he offers to take us down there - one by one, mind you - we are hesitant. Gobi is offered up as the sacrificial lamb to go down first. Meanwhile we imagine those scenarios from those horror movies where a crazy old man brings unsuspecting tourists down to a place with really fast moving pistons do so some unfathomable things with them. But fortunately Gobi returns unscathed with his thumbs up so we take turns going down after that.

The floor is slippery due to the grease; its noisy so you really can barely hear yourself thinking. But ultimately its an engineering marvel - the pistons moving up and down, the ship engineer taking instructions from the captain, the deafening ruckus of the multitude of pistons driving the ships rotors. Obviously this engine is slightly different from the ones used back when the steamer was first built - it now uses oil rather than coal. But apart from that the steam-mechanism is identical; it doesn't use the modern diesel engine. And the ship engineer controls the engine after receiving instructions from the captain ala the movie Titanic.

Cool right?!

Scene 36 - 25th July

Today, being Sunday, I attend Mass. However, being in Sweden, there is no English Mass (I'm not actually sure whether they have an 'International Mass' in English like once a month or so. Anyway, I end up going not for the Swedish Mass, but the Spanish Mass; mainly because I am quite impartial, not speaking either language.

Halfway through the Mass, however, I begin to realise that it would have served me better to be partial, because attending the Mass in Swedish makes more sense. If you attend the Spanish Mass, and look my colour, people are going to expect you to speak Spanish. So you probably would have to pretend to be a mute during the Sign of Peace etc because people would wish you peace in Spanish. The alternative is to learn the words for "Shalom" in different languages.

The others went souvenir shopping at some (Asian) shop. I'm not sure whether I have mentioned this before, but there are some cardinal rules for souvenir shopping in Europe. For example, always go to an Asian-run shop. They always have the lowest prices. Of course, their products probably were not MADE in the European country, but hey, the era of globalisation is upon us.

I join them after Mass.

Its time for us to leave our boat and go to Ӧrebro for the next part of the trip. What's there to see in Ӧrebro? Nothing much actually; but that's the place where we are going to have our orienteering. Finally, what is orienteering? Its this "race" where, armed with a compass and a map and their wits, people bash through forests and terrain towards certain checkpoints. Being a race, you have the option of finishing it very fast by just going in a straight line no matter what lies in your way (e.g. river, mountain etc) or you could take the easy way - the long winded dirt path.

It sounds fun, definitely. I doubt it'll be anything like orienteering in the city which we have been doing for the past month or so.

Anyway, today, after arriving in Ӧrebro, all we do is check into the hostel - there are quite a few things going on in Ӧrebro this week; and so the hostels are quite in demand (the guy sharing the dorm with us came here for a comic book convention, of all things). Ordinarily, you wouldn't expect a place like Ӧrebro to be packed with people because it really is quite a small town.

Today is not orienteering per se, its registering for the orienteering. Apparently the event has already started, but we are only participating in one event. So, the registering place, which is just a little bit out of (this very small) town, is bustling with activity.

Once we step into the room, however, it finally hits me that we're in Scandinavia, the land of the Vikings. Henrik Larsson is no Viking. But the Swedes in the orienteering registering room are. We feel like midgets walking around; interstitial occupants of the room of much larger people.

I know this picture doesn't do justice to my last statement; but trust me, the feeling is there. On our registration form, we put our country as Singapore, and then when they print the race-tags for us its damn cool because we are representing our country. This is actually in international event, to be honest, but we are the only representatives from Singapore. Also, we're not official Singapore representatives, so the Singapore Flag is not up there (see next photo). In any case, we're just running for fun.

And so, now, its resting time for the big day.

Scene 37 - 26th July

Today is the big day. We drive to the registration site, but that's not where the race is taking place. For that, we board a bus that takes us to the site.

The bus journey is not long; but it takes us out into the uninhabited countryside. Probably I should mention about the weather here - its cold. And its drizzling. Lase says there's no issue with the drizzle or the cold since we'll all be running anyway and we'll be warm because of that. On the way we pass by serious participants; who are actually warming up for the race through the forest by doing laps around the starting point site.

But we just walk to the camp-site where those not racing will be sitting and watching the belongings of those who are racing. We put our stuff with the team from Bredaryd; the team in which Lase used to be in. And then we walk to the starting point. Mind you, all this time during this walk to the starting point, there are people who are jogging already, warming up.

I think they have the right idea; because we (at least Eugene and I) are still shivering.

We are in separate lanes to start, and just for wayang (show) we run the first 50m from the starting point. But we all stop after that 50m after we turn out of sight to wait for the rest.

So now we discuss our tactics - we'll run as a group and we'll let each person take turns to use the map to lead. Lase goes first. He points at the map, looks at the compass, I see the road that we can take, he sees the forest that we can cut through. And off he goes. Straight bashing through the forest. And we follow.

And that's the story of how my sports shoe got soaked with mud and water in the first minute of orienteering. Clearly this is not the type of shoe designed for orienteering. And this is also the story of how I discovered what Orienteering truly is.

Obviously, you aren't going to see any photos of this journey through the Swedish wilderness because we're too busy panting and searching for the checkpoints. Gobi is not as bad as Lase, he finds a more routine path - or maybe I have already grown accustomed to the bashing through the forest concept. Gobi is trained by the Singapore Army to do this, Eugene and I not so. But running through the forest, especially in this weather is really fun. Live in the moment and not worry about how you are going to clean the shoes and track pants later, because everything is just become muddily brown.

There are others like us, non-competitive runners, but there are more competitive runners. I think Lase is used to the competitive part; so we're holding him back. Especially when Eugene and I are leading. Because we honestly are quite blur. I missed my checkpoint at least once. Its not that easy to find, to be fair.

Finally we reach the last checkpoint, and we make a pact that we shall sprint to the finishing line. Wayang once again. But I think this is more an effort to make the orienteering experience more credible. And we're off. Gobi didn't understand the instructions, so he lags behind Lase, Eugene and I just jog back without too much emphasis on speed. I think our aim was just to come ahead of the little boy that was ahead of us.

Around us people are cheering for the runners; so its fortunate that we ran - it would be quite embarrassing (even if they'll never see us again) if we just walk. Considering we are four able bodied young men.

Finally the finish line is passed, we finish ahead of that little boy, and the results are out. Oh how we've done our country proud.

We decide to take the pictures of the result board early on, because as the day goes on, our ranking will continue to drop as more people complete the race.

The 'race' took the better part of an hour and a half at most, so, including the bus ride to and from the site, that means that this whole 'orienteering experience' which involved us coming all the way to this far ulu corner of Sweden, ultimately has taken up just about half a day.

However, cleaning up ourselves after that involves a good part of the other half of the day.

Its safe to say that my track-pants is now unavailable for the remainder of this Eurotrip - but that's okay since the Eurotrip has almost come to an end and I can now rely on my berms and torn jeans. My socks are also beyond saving, and I think that saving them would be hopeless, so into the bin they go. My shoes, on the other hand, require saving as I need to wear them for the rest of the trip.

Eugene, on the other hand is trying to save everything - so he's in the bathroom scrubbing his shoes and socks. We can't all crowd out the bathroom, so Eugene volunteers to help scrub our shoes too.

*

While the shoes dry, we go out once again. If you recall, the temperature in Scandinavia is a cool 20 degrees. And considering that my shoes are wet, I am forced to wear my slippers when we walk around outside.

There really isn't much to see in Orebro, so all we see is the castle. The Castle has quite a cool waterfall of a moat surrounding it - that's new. But we don't go in. I'm not sure if we even are allowed to. But us city-bumpkins still need to recover from a "race" that would have probably been more like a walk in the park (this phrase is probably used in a more literal sense in this context than usual) for the other two among us who are less Singaporean. So we go back to the hostel room after a quick dinner.

Incidentally, the pitter patter rain which followed us around during the Orienteering Race has all but gone somewhere else to bother someone else. Or perhaps its being fair by raining on everybody's race back at the race-site. So anyway, clear skies for us.

And so the Eurotrip is finally drawing to a close; tomorrow we fly off from Skavsta Airport for London. But, that's tomorrow's story.

Previous - Act 12 Sweden I

Next - Epilogue

Eurotrip: Act 13 - The Sweden Roadtrip I

More for the sake of easy and convenient reading than anything else, the Sweden Roadtrip, the finale of this great adventure, is split into two Acts (13 and 14). Act 13 focusses on the parts of this adventure concentrated at the south of Sweden, where we stayed with Lase and his family. Act 14, focusses on parts of Sweden that are relatively foreign to the Larssons, where they do not visit that often, namely Stockholm and Orebro, and hence we stay in hostels in these places...

Scene 30 - 19th July

As always, the sun who only knows how to set at around 11pm at night knows how to rise very early in the morning. I would love to tell you what time it rises, but till today, I haven't actually been awake at that time.

More importantly than anything else, the midsummer heat seems to have passed us by - the temperature is soothing - not too cold, not too hot. Before we go on with today's story, I ought to share a short story. The story of Ladonia. Lase kept asking us if we knew of this place - Ladonia - throughout this trip. He said it was a self-declared state. In fact, while we were walking around Christiania in Copenhagen, I had asked Lase if that's what he was talking about. Obviously not. However, apparently, today we're going to visit Ladonia.

Now, Ladonia is technically in the middle of nowhere. Seriously. It actually isn't on any map. But today we're going to find it. Ladonia was proclaimed back in 1996 as a nation, by artist Lars Vilks. He's actually better known for his controversial drawings of the Prophet Muhammad. Apparently this guy has a death wish. He's probably one of the few people in the world who have single-handedly attracted terrorist attacks. I mean terrorists by nature tend to try to terrorise as wide a range of audience as possible. But I think they make an exception for this guy. They have tried to kill him on a number of occasions.

On the way to see his nation we discuss his stupidity. Lase, as usual, maintains that while we can't condone what he's doing, we can't exactly do anything about it. After all, that would be an infringement of human rights. Of course this goes into a discussion about the Sedition Act of my country.

Anyway, we don't really have to talk about his drawings of the Prophet because we're not going to see it nor are we going to put them up on this blog, not just because of the said Sedition Act, but because we don't condone it.

What we are going to do, is to see Ladonia, the self proclaimed kingdom in the middle of nowhere.

Well, technically it is in the middle of some natural reserve, so we have to go there. When we reach there, however, we are greeted by Henrik's parents. Apparently they came down from their town to join us on today's expedition. Hm.

SURPRISE!

I'm quite touched that the whole Larsson family has come down to join us on this hike through the nature reserve, but in all my admiration for them, I quite urgently need a toilet. Turns out that we are kind of in a Nature Reserve so the toilet is actually a toilet bowl built over what looks like a hole in the ground. I'm really not sure; but what I am sure about, and surprised about, is that there are no flies flying around.

In any case, armed only with a map and a sense of direction we make our way into the forest. Now, here I would like to mention that these people are champion orienteerers. Orienteering, as Lase had explained when he came down to Singapore, is an activity, where, armed with a map and a compass, participants bash through the forest, finding checkpoints. Lase assured us it is quite fun, and assured us also that we can make up our own minds when we try it. But that's a story for another day.

As I mentioned before, today is primarily a hunt for Ladonia. If you recall, I did mention that Ladonia is absent from any map; so finding it wasn't as easy as looking at the map. Good news is that we know a rough estimate of the whereabouts of this mysterious unofficially sovereign kingdom; and so we walk.

And we walk...

I make it seem as though that this journey is going to take forever, but I have reassure you that it doesn't. Probably, if it was just the 3 non-Swedes walking, it might have taken forever. But we have the Larssons leading us and it takes less time than it took to get to Notre Dam from the Eiffel Tower.

Probably this looks like a load of gibberish; but a rough google translate of this goes like this:

"Enough is enough! With this proclamation urging Stavnes to revolt. The secret of eternal life, the golden apple is suspended from the nobility and given back to Ladonia people." (Apparently Google still has no idea what Stavnes means, methinks)

This has something to do with the made-up myth of the founding of Ladonia.

And so we enter.

Anyway, Ladonia, being built out of stones and driftwood, is not exactly what one would consider the safest playground in the world. In fact, there are nails sticking out where they probably should not. So even without the impending terrorist threat against this place (seeing as the founder of Ladonia doesn't really sit well with the terrorists and has already had death threats against him), this place is quite dangerous.

So its quite strange that you see that parents actually allow their kids to use Ladonia as a giant playground.

Including Henrik's parents. Stefan has seen something and he has decided to climb to the top. And he's gone within a few blinks.

According to Mrs Larsson, this happens a lot with Stefan. And Henrik.

They come. They see. They Climb.

Anyway, I am not that ambitious to climb to the top of everything I see, so I just try my best to avoid the protruding nails and semi-broken drift-wood planks that form the structure than is called Ladonia.

In case you're wondering, that black flag flying in the background is the unofficially official flag of Ladonia. And it flies over most of the towers that make up the Castle cum Playground.

Probably the above picture gives you a clear picture of how Ladonia actually looks. It literally was made up of stones (at the bottom) and driftwood that floated in from the sea. FYI, to give you a perspective, Ladonia is built by the sea.

Eventually we reach the bottom i.e. the coastline. We sit on the rocks, eating cherries that were actually grown by Lase's brother-in-law (I think); and toss the cherry seeds into the water.

A couple of stone (or cherry-seed) throws away along the coastline, there is this strange rock formation. Well, its not really a rock formation because it looks a lot like an abandoned building. So being curious as we are we go to explore it.

I really don't know what it is.

*

In the earlier picture of us entering Ladonia, you might have noticed that the path into Ladonia is relatively narrow. So, rather than cramming ourselves against the inflow of people visiting Ladonia, we take the path outside, on the grass. Turns out this path, despite being a little harder to take, is a lot less crammed.

*

We still have the whole of the nature reserve to see. And judging from the active lifestyle that the Larssons live, I think there is a lot more walking to do before the day is up. And I'm not disappointed.

There IS a lot more walking to do before this day is up.

We walk along one of the predesignated walk-paths, which, unlike the micronation that is Ladonia, is on the map. We make plans to visit a lighthouse at the end of one of the trails, and so we walk.

Then we come to this steep staircase cut into the rocks leading down to the coast. Remember how I said Stefan's motto was something like "I come, I see, I climb"? I think its more like "I come, I see, I conquer".

Needless to say, we climb down this steep stairs.

I think one glance at it will tell you that this staircase isn't perhaps the safest staircase that we'll be going down in our lives. Anyway, right about halfway down the staircase becomes more unusable, and I insist that we find a different way to come back up; because this borders on treacherous to me.

Anyway, finally we reach our destination - the coastline; but to our guide Stefan there is apparently no such thing as a destination and he disappears once again. We stroll about on the rocks that form the coastline;

and soon we find a cave hidden somewhere along the coast line. All Enid Blyton's Famous Five stories about caves and smugglers came rushing back in an instant, but sadly, this cave doesn't hold any of those wonders. Or stories. In fact, I don't actually think its a real cave even.

See?

Anyway after walking around on the bottom of this cliff and taking pictures and revelling in the awesome sea-air (and the weather, of course), we decide to go look for Stefan.

Stefan is no where in site; but after calling (and I mean with Henrik's handphone) him we discover that he is already on the top of the cliff. So he's found a new way out of this cliff. And we don't have to take that treacherous staircase. So we follow the sound of his voice till we reach this.


"How did you get up there, Stefan?"

"Climbed..."

"Is it climbable?"

"Erm... Its climbable..."

And so we start climbing. At first, its relatively easy.

However, after some time, we get to the hard part - a nearly 90degrees scaling of the cliff. To be honest, till today, I didn't actually ever see the use in pull-ups - but today the light dawns on me. Lucky I can do a few. And lucky Gobi is relatively sure-footed unlike the other two of us (Eugene and I).

In the end we reach the top, after a few near-death experiences.

I could swear that the hole in my jeans has doubled in size.

"I thought you said it was climbable"

"Erm.. Yup, I said it was climbable..."

Can't deny it. It was climbable. Though I think he probably meant that it was probably not a good idea to climb it.

But anyway soon the euphoria and achievement set in.

I've climbed a cliff in Sweden. In jeans!

We sit on top of that cliff for awhile marvelling in our achievement and catching our breath until a few bees come buzzing our way and with a sudden movement we nearly fall off that cliff which we worked so hard to climb up. So before another incident like that happens, we decide to get moving and go searching for the lighthouse. Again.

What perhaps was most surprising about that experience was how easily the Larssons did it. Henrik's dad definitely looks athletic and we already know that he's about as fit, if not fitter, than his sons. But Henrik's mum, who looks petite (as you have seen in the pictures) was probably the best climber of all. In fact, one of the parts where I really struggled and needed to be pulled up by Gobi; she did, by herself, and she did it really quickly.

Anyway, the adrenalin that came from the near death experiences soon wears off and by that time, we have already reached the lighthouse. We stop for some ice-cream at the cafe. I'm still not fully fit so I abstain from the ice-cream.

After ice-cream our appetite for adventure had been satisfied, but not for the rest of the Larssons. I believe that they're used to walking around on hiking trails such as this hence the experience is not really novel for them. The non-Swedes are, however, tired and hence Henrik volunteers to walk the easy way with us while the rest of his family walk through one of the other hiking trails. (We're walking by the road, by the way, to pick up the car.)

*

Dinner back in Lund was fantastic - Pitas. Stefan cooked up the filling for the pita bread and we stuffed the pitas with whatever stuffing we felt like stuffing it with - tomatos, lettuce etc. I have three helpings. We vow to have a pita-party in Singapore when we get back.

There is a wonderful side effects of really long days - you can do really a lot of things on these kind of days. Outside Stefan's hostel there is a giant field - wheat field, I think. Us Singaporean "City-bumpkins" have never seen a wheat field so Henrik brings us down to the wheat fields and we walk around for a bit.

He tells us how his family actually came from a farm - his grand-dad was a farmer. And his dad was a farmer (for awhile). So, really, its a case of somewhere, somehow, something went really wrong. Haha..

Anyway, some farmer he is, he can't confirm with us whether the crop is indeed wheat; so we pluck a bit for Mr Larsson to identify. Meanwhile we sit in the middle of the wheat field making fools of ourselves.

I'll forgive you if you think that we're gujjus in a money-field.

Anyway, the highlight of the field experience is that we got to see sunset. Putting that into temporal perspective, that means its already almost 11pm.

Shot of the trip.

Scene 31 - 20th July

Today starts off badly. 9am Swedish time I get a phone call from NUS. It would be around 5pm there, end of the work-day, and the caller was apparently very glad that I "finally" picked up. I mean, if she started calling at 9am Singapore time, that would just mean that she had been calling from 1am Swedish time. And I won't pick up while I'm sleeping.

Anyway, apparently its very urgent; and she doesn't seem to grasp the fact that I'm in Sweden and I'm overseas. She tells me that my application to UBC (University of British Columbia) for exchange had hit a glitch, and I would have to solve it. Again, this struck me as quite silly because, well, I'm in Sweden and don't really have much chance to solve any problem. Perhaps it didn't occur to the caller that I, in Sweden, could not go down to my SEP (Student Exchange Program) coordinator in Singapore any time soon. Anyway, this blog is not about my issues with the SEP etc; and that is a whole different drama that I hesitate to bore you with.

*

If anything had clicked in Henrik Larsson's mind yesterday, it was that we were city-folk. City-folk completely oblivious to the fact that farms existed. Okay, I'm exaggerating.

The real story was that Lase had planned it for some time, that we were to visit a farm today. He did not need the events of yesterday to tell him that we were City-bumpkins.

Also, today we leave Lund. Our baggage goes into the car and so begins our road-trip proper. Its probably proper, here, to give a pictorial summary of this 'road-trip'; up to Linkoping, Henrik's home town.

First stop is Halmstad - where Henrik's parents have a summer house. Again, this is a concept we are unfamiliar with. "Summer House". Mythological status, in fact. Probably, in Singapore, a snow storm would sooner be seen than a "Summer House".

A natural question pops up - why don't you stay always at the Summer house, if the Summer House is so nice? There is an obvious and not so obvious answer, actually.

The obvious answer: Winter probably isn't very nice at a summer house. Makes sense.

The not so obvious answer: They actually shut off the water supply during the non-summer months.

Then what follows is a boring discussion on how do you define "summer" and how do you define "non-summer". I shall not go into details, but I can assure you that no conclusion was actually drawn. After all, for people who come from places where there are only the "hot" months and the "hotter" months, even the concept of "summer" is rocket science.

*

When we reach the summer house, though, all debate over the definition of summer dissipates. What is most impressive about the summer house of the Larssons; is that they built it themselves... At least part of it.

Gobi and I are fascinated with the gate. The gate has a cool self-locking mechanism which allows it to, once closed, remain closed, using only springs and gravity. Probably it doesn't seem remarkable when i describe it this way, but trust me, it was quite remarkable.

Inside, the house is small. No, cosy. It does seem to be able to comfortably fit all of us; and it makes use of the fact that the sun tends to shine and the weather is good during summer - the dining table is in a patio.

*

Probably by the end of this account you will understand everything that needs to be understood about the concept of a summer house. Next fact: it is built by the beach. Well, not so surprising - Halmstad is actually a beach town. Today's plan is merely to have lunch at the summer house, before leaving (as mentioned in the map) to go to Bredaryd, where Henrik's parents live. Hence no major unpacking is done in this summer house. While Henrik's mum prepares lunch, us four Eurotrippers go visit the beach which is 5 minutes from the house.

It actually is relatively hard to believe that in our travels through Europe, we haven't actually visited a beach yet. I mean, considering its summer, and well, my dream job is to be a beach-bum, its quite strange. Anyway, the 5-minute walk is through a 'thicket'. Much like the one in Greymouth, New Zealand. Except this 'thicket' resembles more of a small forest than the dense undergrowth that was in New Zealand.

Finally, of course, we reach the beach. Its much more crowded that the one in Bondi or the one in Greymouth.

To be fair, we went to Bondi in the winter months, where people don't usually go sunbathing in the beach because the sun doesn't really shine much. And Greymouth, well, Greymouth is a very small town in a very sparsely populated region of a relatively sparsely populated island (South Island) in a relatively sparsely populated country (New Zealand). Hence if the Greymouth beach were that crowded, it would actually mean that the whole town was at the beach. And I'm only slightly exaggerating.

*

Lunch back in the house was simple, soup (with dahl) and vegetables. We were fascinated by the fact that the soup had dahl, because we had thought that dahl was an Indian food. Apparently different cultures use different variants of dahl in their cooking. Something new learnt today. Henrik's sister also joined us for lunch today – she is working in Halmstad town and came to the summerhouse for lunch with us.

*

After lunch we drive out to a dairy farm just outside Halmstad. Henrik knows the geo-political and economic structure of Singapore relatively well, so he knows that “farm” is a relatively foreign word. I mean, we do have farms in the far corners of Singapore that probably won't be around much longer once development kicks in full scale, but even the farms that we have are high tech so that we don't waste our precious space. As far as a dairy farm is concerned, we actually do have a dairy farm in Singapore – true story. Its just that we don't have cows; we have goats. The principles behind either dairy farm are similar though – the Swedish one is quite highly mechanised as well. I mean, the farmer doesn't go and personally go to each cow and milk it.

The cows all enter this erm.. carousel. Apparently they know very well what to do so they go in and sit quietly in their stall and then let the farmer attach the milking machine on their udders. Then when they're done being milked, they know it themselves and somehow the machine falls off.

Of course, no dairy farm is complete without proper equipment to properly process the freshly-milked milk.

For the cows, they go back to their barn. This is probably where it differs from the goat-farm in Singapore. The cow-barn has more space and each cow has more space. This makes sense, because cows are kind of bigger than goats, and hence they would naturally need more space.

In one of the barns, a pregnant cow was delivering her calf. Well, had just delivered her calf. What we saw was the farmer in the barn taking care of the new calf and the mother was there all bloody. Very interesting, but I hesitate to put that particular picture of the new mother on this blog. She might be shy.

*

After the dairy farm, we're ready to head towards Bredaryd, Henrik's hometown. Bredaryd is a small village in Sweden. Well, small town. Henrik's parents both work there – his father in one of the major companies operating there, and his mother in a school in the town. Henrik's parents go on ahead of us – we have a few more stops to visit before arriving in Bredaryd.

Firstly, and quite randomly, we pull off the main road onto a winding dirt road. And then we leave the car and continue the journey on foot. Where we are going, I'm not sure. Only one person i.e. Lase knows where we're going. All I know is that we're going uphill.

Soon the terrain becomes steeper and harder, but still, after the cliff-climb of yesterday, this is a non-issue. Finally the trees part (obviously I'm dramatising) and we are the top of a mountain. Well, hill, I think.

The name of this mountain is Enskällabober. Apparently when he was younger Henrik used to come up this mountain for kicks. Anyway, today we're on the top of this mountain, and as you can see, we are quite happy about it.

The whole “I'm the king of the world!” complex kicks in quite easily when you have such a view.

Especially when you're sitting on the top of the world, gazing down, and eating chips.

*

As usual, climbing down is not as easy as it seems, but sooner rather than later we're back at the car; after an interesting event which involved being chased by an 'angry?' bee. I don't actually know if the bee was angry or whether it smelled Asians and wondered why these people aren't white. And so it chased us and was like “Heyy.. come back! Where are you guys from?!”. And then he must have thought to himself; such unfriendly people. Wonder where they came from?...

As usual my vivid imagination kicks in.

Anyway, in the refuge of our car we now drive off.

*

The next stop is the birthplace of Henrik's dad. As I mentioned before, the Larssons were a farming family before something went wrong and Henrik became a computer programmer. Since Henrik's dad didn't run the farm, his brother ran it; and now, its run by his cousin.

His cousin was nice enough to allow 3 city-bumpkins to visit the farm and walk around in it. I have been into farms before, that much is true. But this is actually the first time that someone we actually know is showing us around. I'll digress a little; Henrik's cousin has two very small and cute kids and they actually grow up on the farm. The smaller girl was carrying a doll that was actually larger than her, even if it did kind of look like her. It was verrry adorable.

Anyway, that's a side note, only.

The farm rears animals as well as grows potatoes as well as other crops. First we see the animals.

More cows!

I've never actually gotten so close to so many kinds of animals before. Eventually they had to get us out of the barn because one of the animals was getting a bit restless and had to be erm.. wrestled with. Considering that the animals are huge, we gladly sit outside the barn while the problem is being dealt with.

After that we go to the pigsty.

And the one thing that I can gather, is that calling someone's room a pigsty probably would never be accurate. At least, not in Singapore. Because, people, a pigsty is disgusting. And it takes a special kind of person to be able to walk through it.

I probably have to explain. Its not that the smell is terrible. The smell is not bad, really. Maybe its that my nose is blocked (it is) and that's why I'm okay with it. But the number of flies. Goodness...

The fly-density is so high that if you walk forward you are bound to get some hitting your face. Eugene, and even Gobi, try their best to avoid walking in the pigsty. I won't lie and said I walked in without any bother; but I will say that I tried my best to convince myself that I was a pig farmer and walked in.

Now that I think about it, I have never seen a pig up close and personal. I always thought they were small puny animals, much like the piglets above. I blame Winnie the Pooh. The piglets, mind you, were quite cute. Especially since they have a tendency of using each other as shields from danger. So basically if you walk near to them, they will all huddle up in terror. And go to the corner which is furthest from you.

I think once they grow up, however, they begin to consign themselves to their fate of becoming pork-chops etc. Or being subjected to animal testing. For, as I have realised now, pigs are actually similar sized to human beings. Its just that when they walk on four legs, they tend to look smaller.

After seeing livestock, we go to see the barn where the crops are stored. I tell my fellow travel mates that I, too, have some experience with farming. I mean, back in the days when I used to play SimFarm, I used to have both livestock and crops too, and I actually did have a slight understanding of the requirements for the farm to run properly.

Back in the barn, the potatoes are being cleaned and classified into those that are marketable and those that aren't. In the corner, there is a stock of potatoes that were condemned to be unmarketable last season, so now they are actually sprouting. Henrik's cousin tells us that these potatoes will be used as compost. Makes sense.

Finally, we make our way back to the farmhouse. Eugene especially is cleaning himself off from the dirt that he encountered in the farm. But to be fair, I think the amount of cleaning he would be doing off himself would be much worse had we gone as planned to Amsterdam.

After a quick walk around the farmhouse, we thank Henrik's cousins – both siblings are in charge of and helping with the farm – and say bye to them and the two cute girls and we're off towards Bredaryd.

Oh wait, we have to visit Henrik's grandma first.

Of course, there isn't much for us to say to her, except a smile and a wave because she doesn't understand English. But we do get out of the car and be sociable and allow Henrik to translate for us. Her yard is quite nice, and she shows us the wonderful toy that Henrik's family had given her – an automatic mower.

I know there is no market for that in Singapore, but its just so cool. The lawn mower knows where to go and when it feels like it, it goes and cuts the grass in the area.

By now the sky is beginning to get dark, and Henrik isn't driving too fast – there is a danger of road kill. As in deer prancing across the road and stopping in front of a speeding car can cause accidents.

Deer! Like that one.

*

Anyway, not too long later – the farm is in a village outside Bredaryd, Slättö – we reach Bredaryd. And we reach the house. Ah. The final reason why its called a 'summerhouse'. The normal house is much bigger and definitely seems to be built better than the summerhouse. I mean, this house probably can withstand a snowstorm, and keep you warm and cosy during it.

There are many things cool about this house, I must say, including a special heating system that involved ground heating. I don't really understand this concept of ground heating. I mean, to me, if heat's what they want, please, come over to my country and take it from us. I mean, we would gladly give some to you. Though, knowing my country, I reckon they would try to sell it to you. And besides, as with everything, you could then probably get it cheaper in India.

Anyway what I do understand is this: they have a mini-farm in their garden. Here I will say that my aunty's house back in Singapore has a mini-farm too, but hey, in Singapore if you have a mini-farm in your garden, you probably can't grow much due to lack of space. Anyway, here they have plenty of vegetables growing nicely. They even have a compost heap to provide for natural fertiliser.

In fact, Henrik's dad plucks some carrots for us and offers them to us.

He himself takes a bite after washing it, and as hesitant as I am from eating things plucked from the ground and not plucked from NTUC or Cold Storage, I take a bite. Probably as Singaporeans we are programmed a certain way; and this was probably a deviation from the standard programming. Also note that I don't usually eat raw carrots.

Henrik's dad also built a gazebo outside the house – again a very strict deviation from the standard Singaporean mentality of “call-the-man”. Back home, my dad is the strange one for actually doing work around the house by himself. I think he would be the standard dad-of-the-house in Sweden.

We actually have dinner in the gazebo; and dinner was great. Rice with chicken curry. I really appreciate that Henrik's mum went out of her way to cook something specially for us.

Of course, as usual, the day has to come to an end – these days, with Henrik Larsson in his element and in his country, these days seem to last very long. Probably my readers would have realised this by now. Before we sleep, Henrik's mum shows us pictures of him and Stefan back when they were growing up – and we learn of his prowess in orienteering. Well, their prowess in it. And, amazingly, we learn that Henrik Larsson can ride a unicycle. We make him promise to show us tomorrow.

Then we get showed around the house – to our rooms, to the garage, to the bathroom, – wait. Oh my gosh. The bathroom! Its fantastic! I have declared this the world's coolest bathroom. I make a special request that today this will be my room. Of course, I think they don't want to allow their guest to stay in a bathroom. So I still end up taking the upstairs bed room. Henrik's old room, I think. But, I did manage to snap a few shots of this wonderful heaven that is disguised as a bathroom.

Ah. We have finally reached the end of the day. I've almost forgotten the unwelcome circumstances with which the day had started. So, as it starts, I shall end it – with the UBC issue. I try to map a few business pre-mapped modules over as they had not allowed me to take any engineering modules. Hopefully I'd get these modules and we can all move on soon. Anyway, by now, I'm under the impression that even if I don't get to exchange to UBC it would be okay because I probably can have my exchange to any of these European universities and hence I can visit Europe again. So that's the last that this account shall give of this UBC issue.

Scene 32 - 21st July

Today is our last day in Bredaryd – yes, I know its also our second day; but it seems so long. If you recall, yesterday was quite exerting, especially with all the stress revolving around the UBC issue. Fine, I'm sorry I've mentioned it again, but, hey, its on my mind. Anyway, moving on...

I was just trying to justify why we woke up late, okay?

Anyway, after breakfast, we actually plan to go down to the nearby lake for a dip. If you recall from the German leg of our trip (with Daniel) there was originally a plan to go down for a swim back then. That swim was cancelled because we were all tired and Eugene was running a fever. This time, however, we are all recharged, and the only health issue that we have on our hands was me having a cold. Its not a big deal, anyway, but I think for the sake of my health I will not spend too much time in the water. Especially since I reckon the water in a Swedish lake is bound to be cold.

*

We're in the garage – Henrik had borrowed bicycles from his neighbours so that we each have a bike to cycle down to the lake. But in the garage we also find Henrik's old unicycle. The concept of unicycling is probably one concept you'll only associate with professional buskers, jugglers or clowns. So you wouldn't actually expect to see anyone unicycling. Much less your friend. So when Henrik Larsson proves to us that he can unicycle, by, well, unicycling around outside his house, we insist on trying.

Needless to say, we epically fail. I, for one, managed to low-blow myself at least three times while trying to get onto the damn thing. The other two don't actually low-blow themselves strangely, and they manage to sit straight on the unicycle. While holding on to two other people, of course.

This is the third time we're cycling on this Eurotrip – after Paris and Dresden. By now, we're relatively good at it, especially since there aren't really many cars around in Bredaryd town. It really is a small town, compared to most of the other cities that we visited throughout the trip. In about 10 minutes we pull over to the lake. I'm not too sure what this lake is called, but what strikes me first is the fact that the water in this lake is brown. Upon closer inspection, the water is not brown – it is as water should be, transparent. Its the soil under the lake that is brown.

Also today we get the opportunity to test the underwater capabilities of Eugene's new camera.

We toss the camera into the lake, and two surprising things. Firstly, it floats. Secondly, it still works. So, well, indeed, it is waterproof.

As I promised myself, I'm not going to spend too much time in the water, so I get out of the water soon. Eugene and Gobi are still in the water. And here I see something very clearly. The fact that Eugene is Chinese is very obvious. Very VERY obvious. I mean, I'm not exaggerating when I say it was as easy to find Eugene in that lake as it would be to find Gulliver in Lilliput. Except, of course, Eugene doesn't come close to towering over the blondes and the occasional brunette swimming in the lake. What probably may come as a surprise was that it was actually easier to find Eugene than Gobi.

This probably, to be fair, could also be attributed to the fact that Eugene was very hesitant to put his head under the water. I don't know why.

After I finally go in (I had been taking care of the stuff while watching them swimming in the lake) Gobi relates the story of how the white people were fascinated by Eugene. Apparently its not a common sight to see a Chinese man bathing in their local town lake. One of the boys bathing in the water had asked Lase about Eugene, according to Gobi. Fascinated, he had asked “Is he from China??”. Thankfully he asked that in Swedish or Eugene might have been emotionally traumatised. Knowing him.

That same boy (about 10 years old, mind you) had actually showed Eugene how to put his head underwater. Perhaps he could recognise that Eugene wasn't the type to have ever bathed in a lake before (its illegal to bathe in Singapore reservoirs); and he was just being helpful. Or perhaps he was making fun of the fact that Eugene didn't dare put his head underwater.

The dip in the lake has done marvels for my nose. Its unclogged the nose amazingly. Its perhaps because due to the fact that the water was quite cold. I mean, it is a Swedish lake.

Henrik tells us that this lake is relatively shallow, and hence is actually one of the warmer lakes in Sweden. On the other hand, the swimming lakes (i.e. pools) in Singapore don't exceed 2m. Hence it definitely would be cold for us.

Lunch back at the Larsson house was, once again, fantastic. This time, Henrik's mum cooked up a Swedish feast. To be honest, now we realise why Henrik Larsson had the tendency to be fussy with his food throughout the trip. Salmon, boiled potatoes, fries and salad. I'm quite ashamed and yet unrepentant to admit that I had at least 3 helpings.

That was actually to be our last meal with Henrik's family because after this we head north to the final leg of this first part of this journey – to Linkoping.

The first thing that you should know about Linkoping is that you should not pronounce it the way its spelt i.e. do not say Lin-Ko-Ping. It is in fact pronounced closer to Leeng-kshyo-ping. Apparently this is one of the quirks with Swedish pronunciation; that sound of the 'k'. The second thing that you should know, is that its where Henrik Larsson stays and works. That's all I'll give away for now.

*

Before reaching Linkoping, however, we stop by some wind-farms on the way there. To me, the objective of travelling is simple – see what you can't see otherwise; do what you can't do otherwise; experience what you can't experience otherwise.

One thing you're never going to see in Singapore (assuming no drastic change in climate etc) is a wind-turbine. I mean, an actual, large-scale, power-generating wind-turbine, not a pinwheel that spins in the wind. They're quite prevalent in Europe, mind you. And this one, in particular is on a hill on the way there.

Again I shall draw reference to the trip to West Germany; to Rheinland-Pfalz where we first broke the 180kmph hour barrier on the famed German Autobahn. I did mention, as we were happily zooming along the Autobahn, that those wind turbines are actually huge. Well, today we see them up close and personal.

Of course, from far they look okay – like those little pin-wheels that you see sometimes outside peoples houses. You know, the kind that are multi-coloured but when they spin in the wind they appear white due to the mixing of the colours etc.? Anyway, the point is that they look small.

Of course, simple intuition will tell you that when you get closer, something that appears quite small does get quite big. What simple intuition doesn't tell you, however, is that that thing, becomes gigantic.

More importantly, what it also doesn't tell you, is that something that is so large, is actually very scary to stand under. I'll tell you now, my linguistic and writing abilities haven't reached a sufficient level to adequately describe the emotions that go through you when you are standing under that enormous rotating turbine.

Especially since each time a blade of the wind-turbine comes down, it comes down with a whoosh of a swinging axe; and each time your heart skips a beat wondering what would happen if somehow something went wrong and that blade got dislodged and comes hurtling down towards you...

And then that blade doesn't get dislodged, but just as you breathe a sigh of relief, the next blade comes hurtling down towards you, and so starts the next cycle of fear. And thrill.

That particular wind-turbine stands over a hill with a view. I won't include that particular view in this account mainly because it is pretty much what you would expect if you were standing on top of a hill that has a wind-turbine on it looking down over a forest. I'm sure a little imagination on your part would suffice.

And so we're back on the road, bound for Linkoping.

*

Lase's house apartment is a small apartment that can best be described as being a bachelor pad. Then on the other hand, to me, the quality that qualifies an apartment to be a bachelor pad (apart from being occupied by a bachelor) is the presence of a projector.

And Lase's house apartment has one. Just like Cousin John's 'house' back home. In fact, unlike Cousin John's 'house', Lase's projector has a screen!

It is with this projector and its screen that my laptop (whose screen is now cracked to the extent that only the bottom right hand corner is visible) can be viewed once more.

Here, I probably ought to explain the reasons for my calling Lase's house an apartment instead of a house. Actually I reckon that I require two sets of explanations.

Firstly, to non-Singaporeans. In Singapore, the occurrence of an actual “house” per se is a very very rare event (see high population density in Singapore). So, in Singapore, we call apartments houses. Because, well, apartments are everywhere; and houses are much easier to pronounce. I had to explain this to Lase because he kept asking why we call his apartment a house.

To Singaporeans; “houses” are exclusively dwellings that are built on land. “Houses” are what YOU call “bungalows” or “terrace houses”. Flats are apartments. In other countries, there is a clear distinction between the two.

Anyway, now that I got that off my chest, we can move on; and we're out of the house. Linkoping isn't exactly Paris or Rome where there are a hundred things to see. There is a few things that we can visit before the sun goes down today, though.

Firstly, we go to Gamla Linkoping. Or Old Linkoping. I'm actually still not very very clear on why it is called so; but I reckon its called so because the place resembles an old town. Much like Schaffhausen in Switzerland?

We walk around Old Linkoping, but a lot of places are already closed by now. Maybe its the fact that its late, or maybe its that the places have been closed for about a hundred years. I mean, I'm not exactly sure whether the place is actually a museum. Anyway, the place the catches my attention most, is – surprise surprise – a chocolate shop. Of course, as I mentioned, the chocolate shop is closed. But I'm relatively sure that it will open tomorrow morning.

Here we see the agricultural aspect – the tractor and the horse – of Linkoping before it became a hub for software and the high tech industry. I think that transition mirrors the whole transition of Henrik Larsson from farmer('s grandson) to software programmer.

It also shows us what will happen if you put three Asians in an old Swedish town.

To be fair, Linkoping has a relatively high percentage of foreigners and immigrants. Of course, I am comparing it to Bredaryd. Linkoping's University is famous. Henrik Larsson was from there, but I knew of it even before I knew that, because Linkoping University has an exchange partnership with NUS.

By the time we reach Linkoping University, the sun has already almost completely set. I shall blame this fact for the poor quality of the above few photos. Even if I'm not defending my own photography skills but Eugene's.

One of the more interesting shots of the trip follows.

There is probably an artistic meaning to this; but as usual, the art-ignoramuses that we are, we don't see it. However, being the cultured person that I am, I will attempt to explain this sculpture.

“Here in Linkoping University, studying is so conducive you literally can do it anywhere. Anywhere at all”.

*

To get back from Linkoping University to Casa del Lase, we have to cross this forest.

Now we have already established that nightfall has already arrived here in Linkoping, and so this forest walk is slightly different than our previous forest walks. I imagine that snakes might jump out of the woods at any time; mainly because Lase said that snakes live in the forest. Of course, there is no need to panic because they are probably small snakes and not king cobras so they would probably be more afraid of us that we of them. We don't see any snakes; only a few scares of rubber bands or twigs on the floor.

Overall, to be fair, this forest IS in the middle of a city. I really doubt there could be anything too dangerous lurking inside. I mean, if it were New York I would say that a different threat might lurk in the forest, but this is safe Sweden.

Scene 33 - 22nd July

I just looked through Act 12; and probably now empathise with you, dear readers, on the epic proportions of this verbal diarrhoea that is Act 13. They say 13 is a special number - well don't let me prove them wrong. But I promise this is the final Scene of this Act; and as far as a Scene goes I'll be trying to avoid excessive verboseness.

I always say this on days which start off this way. Laundry. Well, I know I've mentioned it about a kazillion times, regarding the relatively high frequency of laundry-doing, so I shall shut up now.

Anyway, its a low key day, apparently, and we aren't driving too far today. We'll be visiting Linkoping main city today. Linkoping city is famous for a few things - firstly, its cathedral. It apparently is where the Church of Sweden is led from. Of course, I doubt it could compare to St Peter's; cue the age-old argument on "once you've seen one church, you've seen them all". But since we're already in Linkoping,

Henrik Larsson does not belong to any particular church - apparently the church tax is very high. In Singapore, church tax (perhaps analogous to tithes) is exclusive to Protestant Churches; but apparently its not the case in Sweden. But then, really high tax is something to common to Scandinavian countries. But still, tax is something people tend not to appreciate.

Anyway, I'm blabbering again; Linkoping is famous nowadays for a different reason - as an IT hub in Sweden. And its University; which I did talk about yesterday. But today; we visit the actual working place of Henrik Larsson. He's supposed to be on leave, but in his office, it seems that everybody is on leave. He tells us a little story of how his company's office in Britain tried to call home office in Sweden but nobody was in because of the insanely high amount of leave they get in Sweden. Perhaps its just a trade-off for the high taxes. In Singapore you work like a dog but they don't take that much money from you. At least through taxes.

Anyway as we are walking through Linkoping city centre we see this.

We thought Paris and London were trying to become ecologically more friendly by having more bicycles. THIS, however, Linkoping, is bordering on absurd.

Mind you, I didn't manage to get all the bikes - this is just a small portion of them crowded in the city square.

Linkoping City itself is a typical city - not a New York or Paris, but a Linkoping. As all good cities do; it, too, has a good Asian restaurant - Thai, this time. Lase, with is usual fascination with Asian food, takes us there. Its a new concept of Thai food - bordering on fast-food; so that's new. Of course, its not as spicy as real Thailand Thai food, but hey, what Thai restaurant outside Thailand actually serves the authentically murderously spicy food that only Thai Thai restaurants serve?

*

Lase then drives us a little out of the city - to this place called the Gota Locks. Sadly, no description of the Gota Locks could probably be complete (nor believable) without an illustration in the form of a little map.

Interestingly, this map is rather elusive - the best possible map I can find is this one:

However, you can't possibly see clearly how this canal, together with its sister canals, links the west coast of Sweden to the Baltic Sea. I think this means the route would bypass Copenhagen, which I think might have some historical reasons. I say this considering what we have already learnt about the Danish-Swedish relationship and the taxes that were levied on ships entering the Baltic Sea by the Danes. Of course, I'm not perfectly sure of Swedish-Danish politics so I'm not actually going to stick my head out and claim that I know much. Anyway, its quite interesting to know that this canal actually cuts straight across Sweden laterally.

I see parallels with a proposed (unfulfilled) venture made by the Thai and Malaysian governments a few years back with would have cut off trade to Singapore. Gobi think that is a brilliant idea on my part; but I clear it up with him that it was never really my original idea. But we still think its a plausible suggestions assuming that the two governments can agree over something; and if, as Ekavit my Thai friend so quaintly put it, the fireworks stop in the south of Thailand.

My opinion changes after actually seeing the locks. You see, seeing the challenge of cutting a giant drain that cuts straight through a strip of land, is easy. I mean, yes, there is clearly a challenge. Excavating etc. But now I see an additional problem. The contours.

Basically the good news is that there are many lakes dotting the straightish path between the West Coast and the Baltic sea. Hence, the canals merely have to link the lakes together and voila you'd have your passageway.

Basically, likeso:

But what is interesting, is that these lakes aren't on the same altitude. Basically, this means that in transiting from one part to another; the ship would have to be raised from a lower level to a higher level; whilst always remaining in the water.

The mechanism, is an engineers marijuana.

First, see the difference in height - see the water in the upper level being held back by the gate.

The boat goes into the lower level. Then the gate behind it is closed; and the one in front of it (the one you can see) is opened. This causes water to enter the chamber where the boat is sitting in. Hence, the boat will be raised.

Once the water level in both compartments are the same, the gate now can be opened to allow the boat to go into the next chamber. And the cycle is repeated till the boat is at the top.

So, what is clear is that this procedure might be slightly more complicated for large container ships. Plus it might be slower. Perhaps it might actually be faster to sail around the tip of the land mass. Which, incidentally is what most big ships do if they want to enter the Baltic.

*

The final stop for Linkoping is the Air Force Museum. Now, first and foremost, I should point out that Sweden has not fought in a war in a really long time. Even longer than Singapore, believe that. Well, to be fair, Singapore is pretty much a new country when you compare with the more established European ones. But still, Sweden missed out on the opportunity to partake in WWII. Even if it actually did sit comfortably between USSR and Germany.

I must confess that I didn't actually see much point in visiting an Air Force Museum; especially considering the fact that I wouldn't even go to see the one in my own country. Ok. To be fair, I have gone to see the RSAF Museum. Do you know where that is? Its in Paya Lebar Air Base. Hidden away.

I'm not sure how hidden away this Air Force Museum is, but to us, its not because Henrik brings us there relatively fast. The Museum is more than just an Air Force Museum - its also partly an aeroplane exhibition. I'm not too fascinated with airplanes but the rest wander about checking out the planes - ranging from the counterparts of the famous "flying coffins" used by the RAF during WWII in Singapore, to the more modern F- Series.

But one learning point today - it probably should have been pretty much obvious; but it wasn't to me at the beginning of today. Sweden, despite being a stoner during the past few wars, was standing at the doorstep of the Iron Curtain. Right across the Baltic Sea, in fact.

So it isn't that surprising that they actually did have a casualty of the Cold War - one of their planes (shown above) was in fact shot down on a "routine" mission. Of course, to avoid offending any potential Soviet sympathisers/believers, I don't ACTUALLY know what kind of mission it was on. At that time, I believe that the Swedish plane was accused of spying, but hey, I don't know, I don't really care. History is history.

That is actually the last sight that we see in Linkoping before we make our way north towards the final leg of our journey. Act 15. Stockholm and Orebro.

Previous - Act 12 Copenhagen
Next - Act 14 Sweden II