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