I got home from work, sent a friend a fax (yes a fax) with information which I hope will solve his computer problem, and turned on the television.
I was trying to avoid Swedish homework, as it’s a rather boring grammar exercise. Couldn’t I just go along, order a couple of beers pa svenska, and chat about my trip?
I know Monday night is supposed to be the best night for watching television, but tonight everything seemed tiresome.
I know I could have watched Australian Story, Four Corners and such, and have been inspired. But frankly, I was in search of something a little more low-brow.
I tuned in to “The Biggest Loser”. Have you ever watched that show? Gosh it’s awful. I watched it briefly, and there was an awful man who kept shouting at the people he is supposed to be helping. Flick.
And then I tuned over to Fox, and there was a terrible beat-up story about male and female toilets.
More channel flicking.
Clearly in a grumpy mood, I switched off the television, the radio and my music player, and I just enjoyed some peace and quiet.
In the midst of this grumpiness, Patrick gave me a laugh.
the only “special event” they’re taking bets on at the moment on Centrebet is the birth of the Swedish prince/princess’ kid, ie boy or girl, what month, what year.
It’s been a day at the hospital, as I took a friend home, and then took him back. I don’t really wanna go into the details here, for obvious reasons, except to say I saw an awful lot of hospital interiors today.
And I also saw an awful lot of people at the Accident and Emergency Department who I didn’t think looked all that sick. Yes, there was a car accident, and there was the older lady in a neck-brace, but there were also some people who I thought should just take a Bex and have a good lie down.
There was the young Swiss bloke, for example, who explained he had a slight temperature “and didn’t no where-else to go”. Under my breath, I whispered to my friend, “he could just go to bed and rest, and maybe take an asprin” as the fever didn’t seem to stop him making several lengthy phone calls to family friends about how sick he was.
There was also the visiting English backpacker who had a sore toe. “Does it hurt?”, he was asked. “Oh yeah, but it’s okay”. “Go home”, I said to myself…
And there was the drunken Aussie (who also spoke German for some reason) who seemed to be known by the staff by both his first and middle names. “Where do you live?” he was asked. He responded by calling a friend and I actually overheard him say, “What’s my address. My girlfriend won’t tell me”.
I couldn’t help but think how much more efficiently run the hospitals could be if a few people took on a bit of responsibility for themselves. The drunk you could kinda understand why he didn’t really have much control for his actions in the state he was in, but the other two seemed like total time-wasters.
In the midst of all this, I was sitting with my friend who is pretty sick, but hopefully on the mend. The staff at the hospital were terrific. And did I mention the doctor was really cute? :)
I had every plan of watching a fair bit of television tonight, but somehow the only thing I managed to watch properly was the Oprah in Australia special on Channel 10.
It was another monstrously busy day at work, and then after heading over to visit my friend who has been in hospital, my plan was to come home, sit quietly and watch a fair bit of television.
After all of the hype of the last few months, how could I NOT watch Oprah? Although I missed last night’s episode, and probably won’t see tomorrow night’s either, I was determined to watch a least one episode.
“How was it?”, my friend asked as we chatted on the phone later in the evening. “It was actually pretty good”, I told her. I really like the way Oprah seems genuinely committed to bringing a little magic into people’s lives, and how she never forgets her impoverished roots. I raised my eyes at the yoga on the beach at Byron Bay scene, but that’s all because of my own personal North Coast “baggage” more than anything to do with the program. Otherwise, it was quite an interesting program, the scenery looked great, I definitely decided I must go and see those penguins near Melbourne some time, and boy did Oprah look pissed off when the chopper ran out of fuel when she was atop the Sydney Harbour Bridge.
Oprah on the Sydney Harbour Bridge
My friend and I then got into a chat about Oprah and the nature of her relationship with her friend Gayle, which is often speculated to have certain Sapphic qualities. “What’s happened to the husband – Stedman?”, my friend asked. “Oh, I don’t know, although I don’t think he’s been around for a while”.
We then got into a discussion about the sexuality of tennis players currently in the Australian Open. Sam Stosur? Really. Allegedly, of course. Henri Leconte? What? But hasn’t he had three wives and four children? Hang on, they keep describing him in newspaper articles as flamboyant I noted.
Anyway, Oprah was the only show on television I managed to watch all the way through.
I was looking forward to seeing Keanu Reeves on Graham Norton, as I’ve long thought he was quite attractive. In fact, my ex and I had a discussion once that we would have an open relationship if Keanu was part of the equation. Not sure about the acting, though I loved The Matrix, but definitely cute. But guess what? Keanu was quite boring and I fell asleep watching the show, even though I quite love the program.
Sophisticated conversations, eh? Must check the biorhythms. Intellectually strong but physically and emotionally weak. Sounds right.
Biorhythms
At the end of the night, I’ve managed to add significantly to the number of recordings on the PVR and on my computer that “I must get around to watching”. I don’t have much planned for the weekend – except taking delivery of a new washing machine – so I’ll make another attempt at watching a bit of television then.
I could have stayed in bed all day. The last week has been exhausting, and I could have happily slept until lunchtime. But I woke early and there was something special waiting outside: it was snowing. Although there has been a little bit of snow in Stockholm since I arrived two weeks ago, it’s mostly been very light. Today, however, we had some good falls. Not that I’m an expert on snow, mind you. I’m sure the Swedes would describe it differently, but I was impressed.
“I know Swedes are sick of the snow, but I find it very exciting and exotic”, I told a couple of blokes I shared a breakfast table with. Steffan from a small town near Orebro had come to Stockholm for a fortieth birthday party. And Doug, a retired Toyota employee, turned school teacher, was here to speak at a conference. We all agreed it was great to meet people from around the world.
“Normally Swedes sit by themselves over breakfast and don’t talk to others.”, Steffan commented. It was then I told them the story of the great advice I was given before my last trip. Talk to everybody, and always say yes to an adventure (or words to that effect). Both commented on how far away Australia is. “It’s a long way even to Asia” I told them. Over breakfast we shared stories about our lives, as I kept a keen eye on the snow outside the window.
For me it was a day for hotel changeover. For most of the next week I am staying at the appropriately named, “Hotel Micro”. I don’t think I need to explain it’s budget with a capital b. So between leaving the rather lovely (and exoting sounding) Scandic Anglais and and moving to the more precisely named hotel, I spent a couple of hours in the Scandic Anglais lobby. It was great to watch the snow, listen to people speak, and generally enjoy the ambience which included a soundtrack from the likes of Sade and Bo Kaspers Orkester.
“Is one o’clock too early for a glass of wine?”, I asked myself, as if I didn’t already know the answer. So I popped up to the bar and ordered a glass of chardy. “Ah, Commonwealth Bank”, the bloke behind the bar commented, adding, “You’re from Australia? You speak good Swedish”. He was being polite of course. He then went on to tell me that he had lived in Australia for five years, attending UNSW. “So what brings you to Stockholm?” I asked. “Girls, of course”, he replied.
Last night when I went out for a drink at Torget (caught up with a bloke I met the other week), and today, I noticed how much the vibe in Stockholm seemed to have changed since I left for Malmo, Copenhagen and Helsingborg last Tuesday.
The snow and ice is still around, especially in the parks and gardens, but they have have all but disappeared from the streets of Stockholm. This means you can walk without the fear of slipping over, and I guess because of this, people seem to have more of a spring in their step and a smile on their faces. I didn’t hear it myself, but apparently last night, there was a bit of a party in the street outside the hotel. There’s a popular nightclub opposite, and at three am, there were enough people out on the road making enough noise, for the police to come around and close off the street.
“It’s been such a tough winter” people have told me on many occasions, with almost three months of sub-zero temperatures in Stockholm. Both officially and in practice, spring is now here. Of course, people are still wearing big puffy coats, but their faces are no longer half-hidden by scarves and beanies.
Well, that was until late this afternoon. I wandered around Sodermalm this afternoon enjoying the experience and taking some photographs. But by that time the snow had set in fairly firmly, and bit by bit, people began to disappear from the streets. The forecast for tomorrow is bright and sunny, so I’m hoping for LOADS of overnight snow, followed by one of those spectacular sunny Stockholm spring days. Fingers crossed.
View from the lobby at Scandic Anglais
The news from Sweden – photos from a sex club scandal involving the police minister
I was pleasantly surprised by a random woman’s comment as I strolled along Keen Street in Lismore today. With a huge ear to ear grin, she told me she loved the Christmas-themed stickers and adornments on my prosthetic leg. Most of these festive decorations were sourced from ‘two dollar shops,’ while I also repurposed some leftover gift tags from last year. The accompanying jingle bells has added a delightful soundtrack to my travels, though I’m sure it might getting annoying after a while.
This visit to Lismore holds a special significance as it marks my first return since my life-changing moment—the partial amputation of my lower right leg. Despite the challenges posed by COVID and the aftermath of a catastrophic flood during previous visits, this trip has been a unique experience for me.
My relationship with my family has deepened this year, evident in our daily check-in phone calls. Contrary to my expectations, the reunion hasn’t been as emotionally charged as anticipated; family dynamics remain the same,
While grappling with their own challenges related to aging, my family’s concern for my well-being has been stronger than for their own. They’ve shown particular interest (and confusion) regarding my dietary restrictions due to diabetes and about my ability to navigate independently. Despite their worries, I’ve seamlessly slipped back into the familiar routine.
Although I’ve always cherished my independence during visits home, visiting the CBD and venturing out at night, this time has seen a shift. Fearful of stumbling in the dark, I’ve limited my late-night excursions, usually wrapping up by 8 pm. Daytime hours, however, have been filled with joy as I explore the town, share lunches with friends, and contribute to various family chores.
The crooked Christmas tree, held up by Santa, is actually a Cook Pine which naturally grows in that direction. A previous Mayor, Jenny Dowell apparently once described the tree as “A bit bent, much like Lismore”.
Conversations with my prosthetist and physiotherapist ahead of this centered around the impact of heat on my prosthetic leg. This week, maximum temperatures have ranged from the mid20s to the early 30s. Their advice wascto remove it whenever possible, maintain regular bathing to prevent sweat buildup, and take it easy. Unlike past visits when work commitments persisted, this year has so far allowed me the luxury of relaxation and focused recovery. And fun with Christmas decorations.
Here are some photographs from activities around Art Month, launched last night in Sydney. It was a busy night, as Kate and I attended a book launch at Kinokuniya Sydney, an exhibition launch at UNSW (will return on Saturday for a proper look at the videos), and then stuff at the National Art School. After three hours or so, we got exhausted and had to go home. But there’s lots more happening, so check this out http://www.artmonthsydney.com.au/
After arriving home in darkness last night, and then falling asleep on the couch for a couple of hours and thus missing all the interesting bits of Q&A, Tuesday was a much better day.
I feel like I got a lot more done at work today than I did yesterday, and there was a bright light at the end of the day: an after work catch-up for dinner and drinks with my friend Kate.
Kate is going back to China tomorrow, and so it was a bit of a farewell in some ways, along with a friend of hers who is travelling there also (he has been living in China for over twenty years), and some of his friends.
After a few drinks at The Art House Hotel on Pitt Street which was very pleasant, we had dinner at the nearby SeaBay Chinese Dumpling Restaurant on Pitt Street. Well, when I say nearby, I mean a potentially five minute walk down the road which turned into an actual ten minute walk after those after-work drinks :)
It’s only the third or fourth time I’ve been there, but I remembered it from previous times with fondness, and so when the suggestion of something cheap and chearful and nearby for dinner was raised, I suggested it.
“You would never go there for the decor or the lightning. It’s alarmingly bright. But at least you can see what you’re eating and you know, because it’s so busy, that the food is always going to be fresh”, I told Kate as we walked along. And so it was.
And for just twenty dollars per head for a large amount of food, you could do worse.
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The Biggest Loser is an acquired taste, you need to watch over the whole series to get to know the contestants and follow their progress. I watched for the first few years but haven’t really seen much of it this year. I suspect the rude guy was “The Commando” who seems a complete asshole, but he gets results…
How would I know about the breeding patterns of Swedish royalty? :) Agree with you about Biggest Loser and following the contestants. Unfortunately the bit I saw was just about the rude guy. He might get results but…
The Biggest Loser is an acquired taste, you need to watch over the whole series to get to know the contestants and follow their progress. I watched for the first few years but haven’t really seen much of it this year. I suspect the rude guy was “The Commando” who seems a complete asshole, but he gets results…
So, did you place a bet?
How would I know about the breeding patterns of Swedish royalty? :) Agree with you about Biggest Loser and following the contestants. Unfortunately the bit I saw was just about the rude guy. He might get results but…