Expat Magazine

Candy Canes and Silver Lanes Aglow

By Elisecd @elise_cd
In a surprising turn of events, it has taken avisitor from home to make me homesick for the first time.  As I type, Beth is snoring away on my sofa, having been up since 3am, and I seem to be sitting here mourning Britain slightly.  We've had a rather festive day, which began with a very long and cosy lunch in Haga.  The weather here is pretty dreary today, not cold just very damp and grey and miserable, so we sheltered for as long as possible in La Petit Cafe.  I seem to mention a lunch in Haga in every single post (a creature of habit if you ever met one) but I strayed away from my two usual cafes to investigate this one after hearing good reviews.  It was possibly the twee-est place I've ever been, all white wash furniture and floral decor and heart shape everything, but it was wonderful all the same, and we fully appreciated our enormous paninis and steamy mugs of latte.

Eventually, we dragged ourselves from La Petit and explored Haga a little, during which I officially began the festive season - given that it is nearing the end of October already, this is rather a delayed beginning to celebrations for me -when I bought Georgia the most exciting Christmas card I've ever seen.  The festivities continued in Ikea where we discovered the newly installed Christmas displays.  Oh my Lord.  Here I discovered the most hilarious range of festive items I have ever seen.  Unfortunately, I can not elaborate on this much as part of the range is a key component of my Dad's Christmas present, but just know that it is both very politically incorrect and very, very funny.  I'm looking at my purchase and crying laughing even now.
I think that it is pe
rhaps the festive feel to the day so far that has made me homesick. As anybody knows, I really love Christmas, and I guess it just reminded me of home, as does Beth of course.  However, I shouldn't be too sad as a few days ago I booked a very impromptu trip back to England next Tuesday.  I woke up in the middle of the night and it suddenly occurred to me that I wasn't going to be able to get involved in any of Jordyn's 21st celebrations which just seemed wrong somehow, and the next thing I knew flights had been booked and trains investigated.  I am also incorporating a trip to Plymouth to kill some time between cheap flights, which I am oddly looking quite forward to, given that I don't usually have a good word to say about the place.

In other, more Swedish, news, I passed my Swedish exam!  I am not sure how exactly this was managed; I can only assume that the marking was very lax.  It is good news all the same though, but unfortunately my A1 Swedish class now clashes with one of my regular classes which is something I need to negotiate (/should have already sorted...oops).  I also turned in my first piece of coursework and I didn't even have to stay up all night, which is a revelation in itself.  I fully appreciated the fact that hand in happens via email here too, cutting out the hideous scramble to the Arts office at one minute before deadline, having not showered and usually still sporting pajamas in some form.

We also broke tradition last Friday night and went on a night out that didn't involve Sticky Fingers, which is shocking I know.  We tried to go to a few places, encountering cobbles and enormous police horses on the way, but came across obstacles in the form of the downright ludicrous Swedish club entry policies.  Pre-night out, we had researched age guides and one club stated 23 but said that girls with "big tits, mouse-short skirts and high heels" would get in younger, on their official website.  Yes, that's right, this was official advice (their words, not mine).  Baffling, completely baffling.  Alas, I threw away all my slut clothes in 2010 and ended up looking more like somebody's mom trying to be sexy.  My 17 year old self would have been ashamed.  We did eventually manage to get through the doors of Parken though and I had quite a good night, despite spending half of it outraged about the price of drinks (60SEK for less than a pint of dishwater flavour beer?  No, just no.) and the other half berating the DJ's choice of music.

This week has been quiet, as usual.  It's such a contrast to home, where days of lounging and nights of drinking roll into one another, leaving me regularly confused as to whereabouts in the week I actually am.  Here, there is a much more distinct sense of weekdays and weekends, the former seeming to involve early mornings and early nights as standard, with a heavy dose of reading and general domesticated activities.  Perhaps this seems like a duller way of passing time but I actually quite enjoy it because it makes the weekends something markedly differentrather just another forty eight hours of sameness.  I like the fact that I look forward to a Saturday morning lie in nowadays, and that I spend all week being excited about dressing up and going out, whereas in Plymouth nights out almost become a chore.  It's certainly different, but by no means a bad different.  

This evening, we seem to have set up a scene straight out of a rom com - I'm cooking and there's wine and at least twenty candles have been lit - so I should stop tapping away and attend to my date (correction: cousin).  Tomorrow, we plan to do some general exploring, including a visit to Rohsska, the design and textile museum, and dinner somewhere exciting, so the next time I get around to boring you all with a post, you'll hear about those I'm sure.  

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