Return to Sweden

It's been four days of adventure in Sweden, with Ben, Erin and I going on an all-shopping, all-drinking, all-pagan-festival rampage through Stockholm with the able assistance of our Viking friends. As soon as the plane touched down I realised how much I miss my adopted home (not least because the air is breathable and the water not caustic), and vowed to return more often -- and eventually, for good.

The pain was helped by a 'spontanfest' on Day 1, with Drakenbergsgatan once again the scene of much instant 'welcome home' partying and our guests subjected to the very selective and reptitive playlist of Irina and I, who apparently held the party at our mercy and forced everyone to listen to The Sounds and Sahara Hotnights as we reminisced over our traditional 5am dancing sessions. (Neither of us were surprised to hear this. There is also an embarrassing video to prove it but so far it has not surfaced on YouTube).

On Valborg we attempted to see Ludvig's girlfriend Emma sing in the firelight before enjoying a nice bonfire. Unfortunately, due to an over-eager consumption of tapas, we were too late to hear anything but one song (I tried to take the blame so that Ludvig didn't get slaughtered but Emma was far too smart for that) and there was no bonfire, only a series of large candles. So once again we resorted to the spontanfest, where at least 10 people showed up with various delights, including a bottle of mysterious Thai whiskey called Hong Thong (see Anders and Ludvig's enthusiastic reaction above). Mysterious but not distinctive - when the Hong Thong ran out, Carl (of Sailor Party and Cocktail Party fame) and I replaced it with cheap brandy and yet still the fervour continued.

The other great hit of the evening was Kaisa, a dog who strangely and suspiciously resembled Carl's previous dog although the former had only one eye and three legs...I will leave that mystery unsolved...

By the time we reached the airport, Ben, Erin and I were seriously considering throwing our boarding passes in the bin, faking our own deaths and starting a new life as humble Swedish cafe-owners. But we had to make do with a large bowl of noodles upon arrival in London, and the promise of many more Scandinavian adventures - with or without Hong Thong.