Tales of action, suspense and torrential rain for days on end from Gothenburg, Sweden.
Ever since I moved here I’ve been keeping a pretty close eye on the weather. It’s a good policy to maintain because it can get pretty cold here from time to time. For Example, just before Christmas, it was about -8ºC for a lot of the time, and sometimes even colder. It’s always a good idea to dress appropriately unless you have your heart set on freezing to death on your morning commute.
There are a lot of sushi places in Gothenburg. There are easily more sushi restaurants than there are McDonalds. In fact I’d put good money on there being more sushi places in gothenburg than there are fast food places of any kind. There seem to about as many sushi restaurants as there are cafés.
I cook most of my own food so it’s not often that I go out to eat. But there are so many good sushi places within walking distance of my college campus that when I break for lunch, I usually go for sushi because I’m more accustomed to sushi than Swedish food and because it’s quick.
An interesting thing about the sushi places is that they are always staffed by Asian immigrants. This usually means that they have three languages, Japanese, English and Swedish. I’ve come to expect this trilingualism and take it for granted. so when I started ordering the twelve piece lunch special and the teenager behind the counter had no English, I found it jarring. I started to order in my broken Swedish but I just didn’t know the names of all the fish that I wanted to eat, so the cashier called his mother to the counter.
Just as I finished ordering she asked me where I was from, because it was clear that I was a student who spoke basically no Swedish. I told her that I was Irish and here eyes immediately lit up. “Oh! I know Ireland, I used to live there!” She said to me. It turns out that she had lived in Ireland for years, working in a Chinese restaurant in Blanchardstown. Apparently her children had been born there.
We started talking about Ireland, she was complaining about how when she lived there there the rent on her tiny, terrible apartment was so high and how there were almost no sushi restaurants but in Sweden there are so many because the Swedish appreciate good seafood. We had a long chat as I ate my salmon and crab, talking about the weather, the Irish people’s tendency to tip and the high rent in Ireland as compared to Sweden. When I was leaving she insisted that I take an extra mint with me.
I think it just goes to show that you never know what you might have in common with the middle aged proprietress of an Asian seafood restaurant.
Today I was running late for class. Whenever I’m late for something and I’m not moving toward that thing, I get anxious. This is one of the reasons why I normally hate taking the bus. When I’m standing around waiting for the bus all I can think of is how I could probably walk to the next stop before the bus arrives. I do this a lot even though I know that it doesn’t save me any time, I’m still going to be getting on the same bus, I’ll just have gone for a little walk first. A lot of the time what ends up happening is that I’ll be halfway between stops and then I’ll be overtaken by the bus. At this point I’ll just shrug my shoulders and flip a coin over whether I should run after it or just wait until the next bus.
I officially declare this to be the end of Cold Week. Which, I suppose, would make this the Cold Weekend.
It’s still really cold though. It’s like -8°C and there’s still snow everywhere but that’s irrelevant. The arbitrary period of time known as Cold Week in which I exclusively take pictures of the cold weather around me is now over.