Maybe it’s because I haven’t left my apartment all day, but I have a sudden urge to be like Bear Grylls and immerse myself in the wild. It’s 9:20pm, but it’s still light.
I walk to the woods I like to run in on my occasional fit-freak days, and after some flower ogling and birdsong listening I’m in such a daze of nature filled dreams that I come over all Pocahontas and leave the main path. Continue reading “If you go down to the woods today …”
The streets are empty. There are no cars on the roads. Apartment windows are dark. Have aliens abducted the people of Linköping? No. Eurovision is on.
I venture out to find a public viewing. Swedish love for Eurovision is legendary, so as I trot along the overcast streets you can understand why, firstly, I’m intrigued to see how Swedes celebrate, and secondly, why I expect to see pubs overflowing with people wearing nothing but flags and Viking horns. Continue reading “A Swedish Eurovision”
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.
Continue reading “Trying to be Bilingual at the Language Café”
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”