Adventures in Deutschland

After spending a few weekends visiting with friends I decided that it was time for another road trip. I was really hoping to go to Poland (you can fly for as cheap as $26!!), but there weren't any flights available, so I decided on Germany. I didn't have enough time off to head to Berlin so I opted to spend a couple of days in Lubeck. I am still amazed at how close all the countries are to each other here! A 3 hour drive through Denmark, a 45 min ferry ride and voila! Germany! I have to be honest and say that besides WW2 history I don't really know much about Germany. My first lesson: Germany is the English word for the country. Germans actually call it Deutschland. In fact many countries have a different name in their own native language: Sweden is Svereige, Denmark is Danmark, Spain is Espana, Italy is Italia...and so on and so forth.

My second lesson: Germany (at least the northern part) is very very green. There are so many forests and flowers. I was really surprised with the nature that I saw, so beautiful!

My third lesson: they drive like maniacs here! We were driving 140 km/hr on the motorway and were being passed like we were standing still. It made driving on the 401 seem like child's play!

We arrived in Lubeck and looked for a place to stay (who preplans road trips anyways?). We ended up at a beautiful old hotel which I am sure was haunted. The hotel staff were absolutely fantastic and I have found that Germans have been by far some of the friendliest people I have ever met on any of my travels.

After settling in it was time to check out the city! It was like any other European city I have seen: old buildings, churches, and monuments. All are beautiful and all are different in their own way. I can't really put my finger on it but cities in France feel different than cities in Sweden which feel different than cities in Denmark which feel different than cities in Germany. Make sense? Didn't think so. I always assumed that European countries would all be pretty much the same, but was I ever wrong! It's really something that needs to be experienced to be understood.

We were getting hungry so we stopped by a German pub for some food. I had homemade soup, cheese and toast and it was fantastic! And even though I'm not really a beer drinker I had to try out local beer, and of course, a couple of shots of Jagermeister. I was absolutely shocked that the Germans had not heard of Jager bombs (a glass of Red Bull with a shot of Jagermeister dropped into it), and found the concept disgusting. I was also surprised to find out that they do not have English speaking television programs like they do in other European countries. All of their programming is dubbed instead of subtitled. We were talking to a couple of Germans in the pub and they could not tell from my accent where I was from. I could understand if they didn't know that I was from Canada, but to not even recognise an "American" accent was unheard of for me. In fact one guy (who asked if I was from Finland) really struggled and had a lot of difficulty understanding what I was saying even though he has no problems understanding people with British or Australian accents.

It had been a long day so we headed back to the hotel for the night. The next day we headed back for some sightseeing in town. We checked out some old churches, met a couple from Toronto, watched a man and his two sons play the xylophone (super talented!), and of course had some Marzipan--Germany is renound for this chocolatey goodness.

 Drinking with the Devil...

I would have liked to have stayed longer but we had to head back to Sweden for work. We got into the car and headed back to the ferry that would take us back to Denmark, but first the border shop! Sweden has extremely high taxes (something like 25%), and the alcohol is very expensive there. So Swedes drive to Germany to buy Swedish produced alcohol for dirt cheap. Make sense? Didn't think so. This has however resulted in the biggest alcohol store I have ever seen in my life. It's like a bulk barn for booze! Three floors for alcohol, one floor for candy, add in a few escalators and I was in heaven! Not only that, they had taste testers for countless different wines. Of course I had to try! I noticed that I was the only one helping myself to the samples, and double fisting at that (it's the classy Canadian way!), but hey I had to make sure that I liked it before I bought it right? I left that place with a smile on my face, feeling warm and happy inside.

Yay for samples!

The rest of the trip back 'home' was pretty uneventful. I wasn't driving so I didn't end up getting lost. I would one day like to return to Deutschland and go to Berlin but it won't be this summer. This is the last of my time off before flying out of Sweden..... but before I head back home I have a s stopover in Iceland....I can't wait!

Lest We Forget....

I awoke early after about 4 hours of sleep (the sun rises so early here). I was tired but excited for the days events. I was finally going to get do what I had come to France for. I was going to get to go to Normandy and learn more about WW2. I would have loved to have rented a car, drove to Normandy, and spent some time there, but I unfortunately had time constraints (aka I only had one day), so it wasn't possible. My only real choice was a guided tour. I got on the metro, made it to the train station and found my train to Caen with no problems (I haven't gotten lost yet...what's wrong with me!?!). There I met the tour guide and the rest of my group which consisted of six Americans.

We started off at the war museum. The tour guide said that to properly see everything in the museum you would need 67 hours, and since we only had about an hour we basically had to do a quick walk down of the areas that were of most interest to us. For me that was the exhibits on the concentration camps. It was really difficult to see the pictures and read the stories about people who were tortured and killed during the war. Some of it was quite graphic and I couldn't help but get a little emotional. It is such a dark part of history but I think that it's so important that we remember what happened, and learn from it so we can prevent something similar from happening again (yes I am aware that ethnic cleansing and the torture and killing of certain groups of people still occur in some areas of the world. It really is mind boggling).

After the museum our first stop was to Gold Beach to see the artificial harbour at Arromanches. We could see the old remnants of bunkers throughout the area, and there were still artifacts of the war everywhere. I wondered what it was like for the locals to have constant reminders of the devastation that took place there.

One man who changed the world...

　
The next stop was the German gun battery at Longues-sur-Mer. Since this wasn't an area that had a lot of combat so everything there was well preserved. As I stood in the bunker, in the exact spot that German soldiers once stood, I tried to imagine what it was like for them. To stand overlooking the water, waiting. I could not imagine what the feeling of anticipation could have possibly been like, or what they felt when they saw Allies' 5,000 ship armada approaching.

After leaving Longues-sur-Mer we headed to the American Military Cemetery. Even tho I have seen many pictures and videos of the cemetery, nothing could have prepared me for seeing it in person. I have no words to describe the experience. Row after row after row of white crosses. Some with names on them, others with just a number. So many crosses.....and this was just a tiny fraction of the lives that were lost during the war. I left the cemetery with a very heavy feeling.

　

We returned to the bus and drove to my most anticipated location: Omaha Beach. It was dark and overcast, there was a fog over the water, and it was drizzling. Despite this, it was evident that it is a very beautiful area. It was hard to imagine that such devastation had occurred here, except that it had an eerie haunting feeling. I think that we all felt it since everyone grew quiet and went their own separate ways along the beach. Everyone was in deep contemplation. I sat on the beach, looked around, and was overcome with emotion. Sadness, empathy, compassion, gratitude, confusion....and anger. I was told that the average age of the casualties at Omaha was 22-23 years old. These young men (and I am talking about both sides) who gave up their lives...the millions of people who were tortured and killed during the war. I really struggled with a lot of thoughts and emotions on that beach. I paid my respects for all lives lost during the war and then slowly made my way back to the van.

　

Omaha Beach

The last stop on our itinerary was at Point-du-hoc. It was absolutely beautiful and picturesque with fantastic views of the beaches and cliffs. Like all areas we had visited, it was littered with remnants of the war. There were barbed wire fences, bunkers, old artillery laying around, and huge craters caused by bombs.  Unfortunately we didn't get to spend a lot of time at Point-de-hoc. That is one of the downfalls of a guided tour, having to stick to a strict schedule. One day I would like to come back to Normandy and spend more time exploring the area, but for now it was time to go.

　

the Point

I boarded the train back to Paris, and was deep in thought the whole way. No words can describe the day. It had impacted me more than I had anticipated. After about a two hour train ride I arrived at the metro and decided that I was going to visit the Eiffel Tower one last time. I wanted to see it at night and here was my chance. I was not disappointed, it was beautiful. I stood there for the longest time just looking at it, grateful for my time and experiences in France. Unfortunately it was getting late so I made my way back to the metro station. That's when I pulled a typical Terri move. I got off at the right stop but the wrong exit. For the first time since I arrived in Paris I was lost. I was actually kind of relieved. I was beginning to think that there was something wrong with me! I approached a man walking his dog and said the one thing I am proficient at "parlez-vous englais?". He said "a little", then proceeded to talk to me in french. Ummm, I don't know about you but asking someone if they speak English is a pretty good indicator they don't speak french. Sheesh. It took a couple of tries but I eventually found someone who could point me in the right direction.

The next morning I said my good-byes to Yannick then headed on my way. After a 2 hour metro ride, a two hour flight, a two hour train ride, and 30 min car ride I was 'home'. I have to say that my trip to Paris was one of the most incredible experiences I have had travelling. I am not a city girl but Paris is thus far my most favourite city I have ever visited and I would love to go back. When I left for France I was expecting dirty cities, rude people, and perverted guys. I found none of those. I found it clean, and full of friendly and respectful people, willing to help out however they could. Now that I am back 'home' in Sweden, I have time to process my experience and start planning for my next trip. I am not sure where I am going but it should be a great time!

Oh La La!

Sacre bleu! As always I seemed to have forgotten to pack a toothbrush. So after attempting to rinse out my mouth with toothpaste (which I also forgot to pack), I was on my way to explore the city. I lucked out that the weather was sunny and warm. Yannick went out of his way to write out all the locations that I had wanted to see and his recommendations, plus how to get there, complete with subway line numbers. Did I mention how awesome he is? Somewhere along the way I would have to stop and buy a toothbrush.

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So with list in hand I walked to the metro. First stop, the Eiffel Tower. I stood there waiting for the subway. When it stopped the doors didn't open. Even when I glared at them. Apparently the subway doors aren't automatic, you need to open them yourself. Sheesh. There aren't even announcements for subway stops either. We are spoiled in Canada! After a brief metro ride I exited the station to check out the Eiffel Tower (or what I kept mistakenly calling the CN Tower the whole trip). I wasn't exactly sure where it was so I just started walking. I turned a corner and there it was. I know this is going to sound fromager but I was actually quite moved by the sight of it. I'm not exactly sure why....nostalgia maybe? Whatever it was passed. I stood there in front of the tower for the longest time, so lost in thought that I never noticed the guy standing next to me until he started talking. Here we go, the cheeky Frenchman the internet warned me about! He introduced himself, an Italian who moved to Paris three months ago. We stood there idly chitchatting, me in Frenglish, him in whatever English he knew. He really started laying on the fromage, telling me how belle I was, how belle my eyes were. Sheesh, do girls really fall for this kind of thing? I know that in his culture men are more direct and touchy-feely, and this could be quite normal and acceptable. I gave him a 'look' and made some sort of snorting sound, and he just laughed and said that he loved my accent (never thought I would hear that!). We chatted for a bit longer when I told him that I had to go. He asked me where I was going and I showed him the list. He asked me if I wanted some company. Now here was this stranger who I met at a tourist hotspot who wanted to spend the day with me (a work day at that...did he not have a job???) showing me the city....is this how he picks up chicks? The whole situation screamed sketchy but I went with it anyways. I figured that as long as I didn't wander down some alley way with him and stayed away from unmarked vans (even the ones that said 'free candy', as hard as that would be) I would be fine.

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The first stop was the Arc de Triomphe. It was kind of in the middle of the motorway and there was lots of traffic.   I can't tell you anything about the Arc (or I'm embarrassed to say, about any of the monuments in Paris) but it is quite the experience to see it in person. We continued walking and walking and walking. All I could think about was that I needed to buy a toothbrush. My new Italian friend kept stroking my arm, my back....complimenting me. He wasn't doing it in a creepy way, and he apologized saying that in his culture people were more direct. Uh yeah, no kidding. He said he really liked me because I was so 'simple'. And by simple I hope he meant laid back. He said my eyes glowed and I was adventurous, that I was drole. I'm not exactly sure what he meant by that but I just snorted again. We continued walking.....I can't really tell you everything I saw, but there was a lot of walking involved!
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The Arc

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At last I came across a store that sold toothbrushes, found a bathroom at McDonalds and finally got to brush my teeth.   Then we continued to walk and walk and walk (plus a subway ride here or there). I have to say that one of my most favourite places was the Louvre. Because I really only had one day in Paris I never had time to actually go into it, but even the outside of the Louvre was amazing. I can't explain it, and don't know why, but it just felt right being there. I could have sat there all day. Italian boy must have been feeling it to because he commented on how romantic it was then tried to hold my hand while swooping in to kiss my head. I just slapped his hand away and told him 'no contacto'. I don't even know if that's a real word (remind me to pick up "Italian for Dummies" as well). I started thinking about ways to ditch him if need be (who's brilliant idea was it to tour around with a stranger anyways?). He wasn't being inappropriate or creepy (I wasn't getting bad vibes or anything), it was just mildly annoying. Was he being cheeky, or was this really what Italians are like? We toured around some more, and even though there was a language barrier between me and Italiano, I had a lot of fun that day. One thing I found absolutely hilarious is that Italiano kept saying "Ohhh La La". Yes they actually say Ohhh La La, but not in the drawn out over exaggerated way we say (like "Ewww la la"). It's more a quick "Oh la la" said in place of "Oh my God" type situations.
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Louvre

Me and Italiano

Moulin Rouge

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After a full day of touring, the last stop on my list was Paris' largest cemetery: Pere Lachaise. It is 110 acres and really amazing! The first stop was Jim Morrisons grave. I cannot begin to explain to you what this cemetery is like. It is incredible (and a little creepy with all of the ravens flying around one particular area). After walking around a bit, Italiano told me that it was time for him to go. He gave me a hug, kissed me on the head, told me that he loved me (for the second time that day), then disappeared....just like that. I don't know if he really had to go, or just realized that I wasn't going to put out, but it was really sweet of him to spend over 5 hours showing me around the city. It was definitely better than if I had done it alone, and I really did have a great time and enjoyed his company.

Jim Morrisons grave

I spent a little (ok a lot) more time wandering around the cemetery then headed to a restaurant for a quick bite to eat. The waiter started to talk to me in french so I said the only french thing I know how "parlez-vous englais?". He asked where I was from and was shocked that I, as a Canadian, did not know french. Sheesh. I ordered crepes, and when the waiter gave me my order (complete with heart made out of whipped cream) I gave him a big smile and said "Gracias". D'oh!. I did this for the entire trip in France. I kept saying gracias instead of merci. Maybe I should have read French for Dummies BEFORE my trip.

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After I ate I slowly made my way back to my French home. My host spent some time going over photography tips (he is an awesome photographer), and he made some amazing quiche. It was a low key evening because the next day was going to be a long one, and the reason why I came to France in the first place.....

Vive la France!

Initially I had wanted to go to Egypt for my 6 days off. It’s a long story but despite all the warnings I was given not to travel there at this time (everyone and their grandma told me not to go because of the political issues they are having with upcoming elections….this included friends, family, workmates, people from Canada, the USA, the UK, Sweden, the Canadian Government, and even an intuitive…) I was going to book my trip anyways. I had everything set up ready to go but when it came time to pay for my flight the website would not let me. Every time I tried an error would come up. I tried and tried and tried and it just would not book. I even tried to go through a different website but it was still the same. I kept getting errors. I decided that it’s a sign that I’m not supposed to go to Egypt right now. (Less than a week later at least 11 people were shot and killed in Cairo during a protest. A curfew was implemented. It will be interesting to see what happens, if anything, during the time that I was supposed to be there).

I had to decide where I could book a last minute trip to and chose Paris. I booked my flight then started searching for a couchsurfing host. What is couchsurfing you may ask? To put it simply it`s an online community of people who are willing to host travellers in their home. It`s a kind of cultural exchange. You stay with the host, live like a local, share your own customs and culture, and if you are fortunate enough the host will have time to show you around from a locals perspective. It`s definitely a different experience and I find it more enriching and educational exploring as a ``local`` rather than as a `tourist`. You get to see the area from a totally different point of view. I have couchsurfed before but this would be the first time as a solo traveller. I would be travelling by myself to a country I have never been to, with a language I can`t really speak, and living with a stranger I met off the internet. What could possibly go wrong? Before you start lecturing me on safety I am perfectly aware of the risks and made sure that I did my research to ensure that I was matched up with an appropriate host. Just do me a favour and don`t tell my parents that I talk to strangers 

I didn’t have much time to plan my trip and wasn't sure exactly what I wanted to see (except for the one thing that brought me to France in the first place. More on that later). I went online and I noticed that the following three themes kept coming up: One, that Paris was an extremely dirty city. Two, French people were very rude. Three, watch out for French men. They are very cheeky. I guess I was going to find out for myself!

I boarded my two hour flight for Paris from Copenhagen. It was really uneventful. I do not recommend ever getting a salmon sandwich on an airplane. Not rocket science, but they are awful, even in Europe. After landing in Paris it was really easy to get to the Metro (which is the subway). Something that I noticed right away, is that not a lot of French people speak fluent English, and most people assume that since I am from Canada that I am bilingual. In fact most were shocked that I can`t really speak French at all (what kind of Canadian can't speak french? Sacre Bleu!). Actually I do feel embarrassed at the lack of my French speaking abilities. There isn`t an excuse for it. I took French until grade 12 and can barely string together a sentence. I can however say ``Excuse moi, mosiuer! Parlez-vous englais?" And I have been saying it a lot!

So I got onto the metro and had to admit that I was a little nervous. I have zero sense of direction, and even with detailed directions I was afraid that I was going to get totally lost. I tried to blend in with the crowd, but with my backpack, my wide eyed deer in head-lights look staring at absolutely everything, and the fact that I don’t dress ``European`` (it must be the sneakers), I was unsuccessful. People stared at me and I stared right back (with a friendly Canadian smile of course!). Two hours later I finally made it to my hosts apartment. I did not get lost. Not once (gold star for Terri!). It`s amazing how I can get lost in an underground parking lot I have been in a million times, but I go to Paris and have no issues. Go figure.

So it was time to meet my host. I was really hoping that he was who he said he was and not some creepy man who drives around in an unmarked van (want some candy little girl?). After walking up 12 flights of stairs (yes 12), I was knackered….and home (for the next 3 nights). I was immediately at ease with my host, Yannick. He is absolutely awesome! After settling in, we discussed plans for the evening. Apparently it was the night that the results for the Presidential election would be announced. I don`t know much about politics (what`s a politic?) but apparently it was a pretty important election, and the French were pretty excited about the prospect of having a socialist government. All the action was going to happen at Bastille so that`s where we were going to go!

After a brief metro ride we arrived at Bastille. All I can say is wow. There were thousands and thousands of people already there, with more and more arriving by the minute. People had scaled the fence and were climbing over the

Colonne de Juillet (a monument that I can pretty much guarantee you would recognize if you saw it). Everyone seemed excited. People were laughing, drinking, singing, and dancing in the streets, flags were waving, and there were news cameras everywhere. I spent the evening practicing my francais...."excuse moi!, j'aime excuse....sacre bleu...tabernac...zut alores!". I am starting to understand why I struggle so much with languages. I just can't hear the proper pronounciation of words. For example:

What the crowd was chanting - "Sarkozy, c'est fini!"
What I heard - "Socrates, STD!".

　
Sacre bleu! I think I'm going to invest in "French for Dummies" when I get home.

Me at Bastille (told you that you would recognize it!)

We stood with the crowd until the results of the election were announced....then pandimonium broke out. People were cheering and laughing, flares and fireworks were being set off. I was wondering if fights and riots were going to start but there wasn't any. Everyone was peaceful and just having a great time. It seemd as though everyone was happy with the election results.

The results are in! (don`t worry it`s just flares)

After leaving Bastille my host and I took a walk through the streets of Paris. It was absoultely beautiful. I loved seeing the bridges and the old buildings lit up at night. I am not what you would call a romantic person (in fact the word romance makes me want to vomit a little), but I can definitely understand why they call Paris the city of love. After stopping for a super late dinner (and no I didn't have wine, cheese, escargots, or frogs legs...just plain ole carbonara, which was delicious by the way), it was time to head back. Because of prior commitments my host was not able to show me around, so the next day I would be on my own to navigate the city. This was going to be interesting.....

Notre Dame at night

Moose on the Loose

Two of my housemates and I were walking home from work (I haven’t yet met my other housemate whom I call “Number 4”) when off in the distance by our cabin I could see four legs standing by a tree.  I got really excited and did my happy dance.  A pony!  It never really occurred to me to ask myself why there would be a random pony in the area but I was pretty darn excited about it.  I squinted and looked harder.  Was that a second pony I spied?  Did someone actually bring me not one but two ponies?  Was this heaven?   As we approached closer I realized that they weren’t ponies at all, but a momma moose and her wee little moosling.  I was a little disappointed that it wasn’t a pony but I have always wanted to see a moose in the wild so I was still excited.  The moose was near our cabin and we had to pass her to get home.  We walked by her as quietly as we could so as not to disturb her.  She barely acknowledged our presence.  She just kept munching away on the bushes, glancing up once in awhile.  She seemed very tame and gentle.  We got back to our cabin and grabbed our cameras for this rare photo op.  We went back outside.  The moose had moved locations and her baby was nowhere to be seen.  We stood there watching and taking pictures.  She didn’t seem bothered by us at all.  We walked a little closer and closer.  She seemed quite content.  Being someone who loves nature I understand that wild animals can be unpredictable, so I didn’t want to get too close.  My one house mate decided to walk futher towards her.  He was about 10 ft away from the moose and I mentioned that maybe we shouldn’t get any closer.  All of a sudden the moose looked up and started running towards us.  We all turned around and ran, my housemates in one direction, me in another.  I heard a big commotion and turned to see one of my housemates on the ground.  He had fallen down and had fallen down hard—he must have tripped and it was obvious that he was pretty hurt.  The moose lowered her head and was getting ready to charge.  My one house mate started waving his arms around, yelling.  That deterred the moose and instead of charging them she went back to eating.  It was obvious she was on edge, irritated, and ready to attack at any time.  We all made it back to the cabin safely.  I looked out the window and could see the moose still eating.  Her baby had returned.  In fact she had two little ones with her. 

Momma and her babies

My fallen housemate was in pretty bad shape.  There was concern that he may have aggravated a previous medical condition, and we needed to get him to the hospital.  We left the cabin and the moose was now between us and the vehicle.  Again my housemate stared waving his arms and yelling.  It was enough to get the moose out of the way so we could get to the car.  We saw two guys taking pictures and warned them that the moose may be aggressive.  They just looked at us and smiled like we had no idea what we were talking about.  Two minutes later when we were pulling away we could see the guys running, with the momma moose chasing them from behind.

Right before the chase

We arrived at the hospital and a few hours later, a cracked rib, and the worst gravel scrapes and bruises I have ever seen, we were finally able to go home.  Thankfully no one had gotten seriously injured, and thankfully my one housemate had been there to scare away the moose.  If he hadn’t have been there then my housemate may have been trampled, or worse.  It was a not so gentle reminder about the unpredictability of nature.  Wild animals may appear tame and docile,  but they are still wild and can turn in an instant.  Apparently there have been previous issues with this moose being aggressive.  I am not sure how the situation is going to be handled but I hope that the moose  (who is apparently pregnant again) and her babies aren’t harmed.  Needless to say it was quite the evening! 

So it’s just a few days more until I finish up my work week and have some time off to start travelling….I can’t wait!

Home Sweet Home....

We picked up the other Canadian who is working in Sweden at the airport to Copenhagen and then drove almost 3 hours to Varberg.  Right away we started with some training for work and getting our paperwork in order.  It went a lot smoother than I am used to ;)  We then went for supper and as always it was ammmmaaazing.  I am proud, and a little (ok a lot) embarrassed to say that I ate my ribs with a knife and fork .  I think that almost qualifies me as European :)  I also had the most incredible creme brulee i have ever had in my life. Ever.  After dinner we picked up the keys to what would be my home for the next two months.  I have to say I was more than impressed!  I am staying at the 'camp' just outside of work, and will be living with three other people in a cabin.  Knowing that these are work accommodations that are generally used by male contractors I was expecting the worst....smelly, dark, dirty, and cramped . How wrong I was. The cabins are bright, clean, up to date, and my extremely large room has its own bathroom and flat screen tv (complete with cable).  No complaints here!

My bedroom which is now prettied up with flowers

After a day off to get settled in it was time to start work.  The first week was for training and orientation.  I won’t bore you with the details since this is supposed to be a travel blog but wow what a learning curve!  Things are very different here and I’m really excited for the change!  My fellow co-workers have been very welcoming and even the food at work is awesome.

So my first week here went well.  I have a feeling that I am going to really enjoy my time here in Sweden and am looking forward to travelling around Europe.  I have already booked my flight for my first ‘weekend’ off.  Destination:  Paris.

Hej Hej Sweden!

I usually keep an online blog of my travels to share with my friends and family to let them know what I am doing (and to let them know I'm still alive!). I have accepted a 2 month contract working in Sweden and even though I will be spending most of my time working, I am hoping to travel while I'm overseas and figured I may as well blog when I'm gone!

So the flight to Sweden wasn't all that eventful. I flew with Iceland Air for the first time. The seats didn't recline very much which didn't make for a comfortable sleep (or any sleep at all) during the overnight flight, and they didn't feed me either....but I got to Sweden safe and sound and that's all that matters! Unfortunately I didn't have a pony meeting me at the airport like I had requested....

The first day was pretty much a write off. I slept, and slept some more. I was super jet lagged. That night I went out and hung out with some friends that I had met last summer. It was great seeing everyone again! I absolutely love the nightlife atmosphere in Malmo. They have a great section in the city called "Lilla Torg", where everyone goes out to eat and drink. All the restaurants in Lilla Torg have outdoor tables complete with blankets and heaters (for those of us who get nippy noodles). The food in Sweden is absolutely fantastic! I forgot how much I miss plank steak and aioli sauce! The only downfall is that everything is so expensive compared to Canada (double the price).

So the first night I was at a restaurant called Mellow Yellow and had to use the bathroom. There was a line up for the girls stall so I just used the mens. When I came out there was a very surprised guy waiting to use the rest room. I just looked at him and said "I'm from Canada, I can't read". He looked at the door, got really confused then pointed to the symbol of a man on the door. I just shrugged, nodded, and said "Canada". It was funny the first time, and got even funnier the second and third time it happened.

The next night I took it a little easier (I no longer love wine) and just went for dinner with some friends. The meal was awesome and I had the most amaaazzinnng dessert ever - sorbet, brownie, and creme brulee. Everything was homemade and oh so delicious! With the food this good, I just may never leave!

The Malmo Scaffolding Monkey....aka me!