Sweden really does morning buns well. Adam is sleeping in,
getting his beauty rest, and I’ve gone out on my own for the second morning in
a row. I’ve stopped at Wayne’s Coffee – a coffee shop franchise with a setup, frequency
and brand font strangely similar to Starbucks – to pick up a chilled Chai and a
vanilla bun topped with sliced almonds. They’re so incredibly satisfying – better
than a muffin; bready and moist. It’s as if they’ve taken a dinner roll and
baked it in a muffin tin with some buttery spread inside of the doughy folds. I
could eat them everyday and intend to do so until I leave Stockholm on Tuesday.
It’s nice to travel this way – not as a tourist, but as if
I’m just sort of hanging out in a nearby town. Adam’s brother was kind enough
to let me stay at his apartment just outside of the center of the city and Adam
and I have been spending a lot of time with friends. So I’ve bypassed most of
the touristy stuff and we just sort of “chill” (Adam’s favorite word). It feels
like taking a weekend in Buffalo or spending the day in Suffolk Country. Despite
the language difference (which is barely noticeable since almost everyone
speaks English) I’m comfortable here in Stockholm. The signs and menus are all
in Swedish though and Adam often leaves me at counters alone to fend for
myself. I’ve gotten used to ordering what sounds the most familiar to avoid any
of the few things I’m allergic to or just don’t really like. I spent enough
time in Spain trying to hide mussels and tomatoes under napkins. Here, I want
to be relaxed while I eat so it’s been a lot of Greek food and tons of kebabs.
No one seems to know what the traditional Swedish foods are,
anyway. Adam cooked pyttipanna my first night here but he apparently botched it
so I have no idea what it’s actually supposed to taste like. I’m easy, though, when it comes to food because the less I
eat, the less I poop and that’s ideal because my bowl fright has gotten pretty
sever this past month. I cannot for the life of my get used to the European septic
system. Spain’s flushing power is un-functionally weak. I will spare you
details but let’s just say that things do not go down the same there as they do
at home. Sweden seems to have things a little more under control but I’ve been
scared so much by Raquel’s inferior toilet that I’m afraid to take any risks.
Moving on to a less intimate matter, though - Adam really
surrounds himself with good people. I got to meet a ton of his friends and some
of his family. And I finally got to see both Alex and Per again – his two
childhood friends who came to Thanksgiving dinner at my house a few years ago.
I had forgotten how much I liked them both. Like a lot. In that way of mine
where I feel like I’m not cool enough to converse so I spend most of the time creepily
smiling into their faces and feeling like a small child.
Everyone here talks about how cold Swedish people are but I
haven’t experienced that in the least. Everyone has been so friendly and
welcoming. – from Alex’s family to Per’s bandmates to some strangers that I met
at a party in the woods.
All in all Stockholm gets only praise from me and I’m quite
sad to say good-bye. But alas, I have a home of my own and it awaits me less
than patiently.
So “hej då”, Sweden and adios Europa. Until we meet again,
you have all of my longing and most of my heart. Thanks for everything, you’ve
been a real pal.
Xxxxxo,
Amanda.
