Bit of a hectic weekend, this one! F had her christening. There are of course many stories and anecdotes to be told regarding this, and I shall type them up over the next week or so.
Right now, though, I'm too tired. A little scene-setting, perhaps, but I need sleep in the immediate future.
It's been a scorching marathon weekend in Göteborg. This isn't a metaphor, it was a literal marathon weekend. All the hotels were full of the kind of lycra-loving idiots who enjoy running umpteen miles on the year's hottest day so far, complete with thunderstorms. The local free papers were full of ominous summer headlines like 'The Year's Most Violent Weekend'. Because of the sweaty weather? Or because you couldn't cross the street without a jogger knocking you down? It didn't say.
At one point, I found myself on a tram, heading off to do some Christening admin stuff with Freja by myself. The tram was packed, mostly with healthy young people in the hotpants everyone in Sweden immediately changes into once the temperature rises above five degrees. No seats anywhere.
A couple of months ago, a heavily pregnant friend of ours bemoaned Swedish commuter manners. Nobody offered her a seat. She was met with downcast eyes and wilful blindness everywhere she turned. No points for you, Sweden, a poor showing.
To make up for it, as I arrived on the tram, no less than three willowy youths leapt out of their seats to offer me theirs. I don't know what to make of this. Weekenders are more polite than commuters? Or just that a bearded man with a baby bjorn looked much less competent than an eight-month-pregnant lady?
I think I should worry about my appearance at the moment.
No comments:
Post a Comment