mickan in world

I've realized being a single traveller means a lot of things. For one it means you can be "the cowboy"; acting moody and take off into the sunset whenever you please. It also means you can be "the inspirationist"; arriving in a company and sharing a few coloured-in memories and leaving people with the wish to do what you did. And also in some places a faint miss placed feeling of being impressed.
Being a single traveller also means never being alone, but also never being with the same people for a very long time. Loving this, but being left with your travel memories scattered around the globe and no one to say "Hey, that reminds me of that time in Laos! You remember?". Nostalgicaly zero points won for single travelling. And as my German friends Lillith put it; people might really want to be interested, or some might even sincerely be; but your adventures are still nothing but pictures or words to them. And to you they are the air you breath, your life defying moments. You think I'm being dramatic? I don't.

This is why I appreciate this past weekend so much. Making a mark, making friends and having them close enough to have a reunion. A nostalgical gathering. Is a wonderful feeling!
This past weekend I went to Lund and met up with Ellinor, Noel, Maria and Linnea, four out of five house mates from this fall. Dublin buddies; if you want.

This is our story:
We have Mickan (the main caracter in this little recollection), new in town, working as an au-pair not knowing a single person in the whole of the green isle. A bit lonely and pathetic.
This girl is walking up Grafton Street when she hears a language she knows (Swedish) without thinking she turns and grabs a surprised girl (Maria) by the arm.
"Hello! I'm new here. How long are you guys in town?"
"Until Christmas, why?"
"Oh great, me too. Can I be your friend?"
"Well, we're going to St. Stephens Green. Wanna come?"
A picknick later and meeting up with Linnea and Ellie as well we just kind of were just that; friends. And so we are still.
A couple of month later, when having quitted/been kicked out from a not-so-nice au pair family. Mickan found herself living amongst these freshly made friends and loving life. I guess this is our story.

The weekend was a great craic! To put it in Dublin fashion. Friday we went out and had dinner at a nice restaurant and afterwards we just stayed in, cozy in Ellie's and Noels great appartment, being nostalgical about life in Ireland. Also we filled eachother in on what we've been up to since we parted in December. Many exciting stories; Maria had some from Australia, Noel had some from South America, I had some from SE Asia and maybe what I found most interessting the tellings of student life in Lund by Linnea and Ellinor.
Saturday, our big night out, started with an amazing football (soccer) game between Mickan and Maria (Djurgården and Elfsborg) which almost made a rip in our friendship when DIF won with two goals in the last five minutes. Me extremely happy and bad at hiding it and Maria the opposite but equally bad at hiding it. But I think this was a good test; us deciding we'll go to the Eurocup together. Allthough hopefully we'll go for the same team then.
We had a nice pree party at Ellie and Noel's and got locked and happy on bag-in-box before heading out into the night, only stoping to almost sing at a kareoke place on the way.

I got my dose of nostalgia and a merry-go-round too. Good weekend it was.

It is finally over. Thank God. The best and worst week of the year. The most amazing, horrible party in Sweden.
Of course I am reffering to Tennis Week in Båstad.

I had a lot on my table. Six friends staying with me, coming and going, Working six days in super busy ICA and going out five nights trying not to miss any of the fun. Also trying to catch some of the day time events, but not even having the time to watch one single tennis match.

For those of you who are not familiar with the phenomenon of Tennis Week I'll fill you in. In Sweden the term "Tennis Week" has a special ring to it. It takes place every year in Båstad the week of the Swedish Open tennis tournament. You might think it would be tennis entusiasts coming over to watch the games, but there you are misstaken. Tennis Week is a night time event. It is the place where the young and rich come to play. It is Daddy's money and Champagne. It is the crowd straight from Stureplan and uptown Stockholm. As we like to call them: Bratz. And they invade.

This is how you know a Brat:
1. A male Brat (which is the majority) is easily recognized by it's differantial hairstyle, combed back with an impressive amount of wax it forms a so called Backslick.
2. A Brat's social pattern is also quite distinctive. It's mating ritual is intricate, a combination of butt squeezing and appreciative comments of the female Brat's apperance. Another highly favoured and efficiant mating procedure is the showing of "the fat wallet" followed by the "bying of the drink" (preferably for the female Brat and preferably Champagne).
3. The easiest way to determent a Brat status is by far watching the marking of it´s territory. This event has clear similarities to the animal world. In both worlds the male marks it's ground by the pouring (or peeing) of yellowish liquid on the ground. The only real difference is that the Bratz instead of urine uses Champagne and that in the Brat community it is a bit messier.

But it is not all like that. If you avoid the VIP rooms (not very hard) this week is darn good fun. People from around Sweden and the world are coming to Båstad for a week of jolly good fun. I had six lovely friends staying with me and we had a blast at notorious Pepe's Bodega and Swinging Madison's. There are really only three venues in Båstad which makes it easy to know where the party's at. And the beach is always crowded; don't mind the weather.

For me this was a bag-in-box, beaching, bloody, bold, bum, ba da bom week. If anyone gets what I meen by that you'll get a medal.

Lovely to have Vicki, Bengan and Tess over for a few days. Catching up on the gossip and sipping coffees and Bacardi. Equally amazing to have Maria and Lina staying, nostalgicaly talking Dublin memories (Sorry Bengan!) and getting inside info on how to climb Kebnekaise (will need it).

This week I'm doing the veggie-healthy-non alcholholic- thing. I need it! Just came back from swimming 1km and feel like a queen! Just gotta resist Pepe's on Wednesday...

Summer does do silly things to your mind.

It is a scientific fact that sun+ vacation+ wine+ pop ( pink lollipop) music = sillyness and cute embarrassing misstakes such as making out with the wrong boys (or girls), doing regrettable things in bushes on beaches, throwing up on people with new white pants (why wear them anyway?). I am not saying all of this has happened to me, now don't get me wrong, but I've heard of them happening to people.

But hands on the Bible; on a cold autumn day, who hasn't looked back at the summer 'misstakes' and smiled. A little summer misstake has warmed many a cold day, I for one carry those little incidents with me like treasures and it is not remembering the hours I've spent tanning on the beach that will keep me warm and pass the time while waiting on the bus in November (forgetting a scarf). It is as I've always said: A red face is warmer than a blue one! I for one am going to make a complete fool out of myself this summer. I will need it in draughty Dublin. It has already begun by the way.

Besides that I can report that Djurgården won against Gefle yesterday (2-1). I watched it in Helsingborg on a pub TV without sound, but I'll tell you this; I can still feel the adrenaline pumping. Thw winning goal was a Brasilian delicasy by Enrico Nazaré with ten minutes left of the game. Three points well earnt.

Eventful weekend has passed. Far too much booze and entirely 'blame yourself'-hangover followed. But good. Mighty good.