“How far until already?” What a loada garbage!

Chinking bottles

“Hur langt tills redan?”

The man looks at me, an expression of, first, confusion, and then amusement. “About thirty minutes.” He says. Perfect English. Continue reading ““How far until already?” What a loada garbage!”

Creative City: Copenhagen

The instant you step off the train, you know that there’s something about Copenhagen. From the clock that sings in the same key as Greensleeves (E minor—apparently), to the buildings that look borrowed from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, it’s no surprise that Copenhagen is an international cultural capital where creativity seems to just dance out of the pavement. Continue reading “Creative City: Copenhagen”

Trying to be Bilingual at the Language Café

Language Trauma

The six Swedes stare at me. My cheeks burn. These eloquent Vikings wait for my response to their stream of questions, but for all I know they could be asking about my views on the endangered Chinese salamander.

“Errr …”

Continue reading “Trying to be Bilingual at the Language Café”

My Own Reverse Brexit

Snow clings to the pines beneath a blue sky as dusted field after dusted field flashes past the coach window. It’s beautiful, Sweden. Last time I was on this coach, in October, this enchanting landscape and the promise of free Wi-Fi led me and Joe to squeal with delight about our discovery (thanks Google) that wolves, lynx and bears could be lurking beyond these trees.

“This says brown bears don’t attack people!”

“Wow! A wolverine’s a real animal!”

But this time, I’m on my own. And the excitement I felt by seeing a new storybook land for the first time is now replaced by the sober realisation that this storybook land is now my home. This is my own reverse Brexit—to Europe. Continue reading “My Own Reverse Brexit”