War of the Flies

I'm having fly problems. For a country that is reported to be insect free, those that exist seem to be living with me.

It started with the garbage can, or lack of garbage can, in the kitchen. It's a wastepaper basket. No lid. We looked for a North American, standard issue kitchen garbage can with lid. No luck. Or, I should say, we found some, but they were tiny - about the size of a brown paper bag. And they were in the bathroom section. What good is that? Nothing kitchen-related. For a country as eco-aware as Sweden appears to be, based on the number of organic items one finds (organic fruit & veg, meat, wine, beer, cosmetics), wouldn't garbage be a priority? Mind you, there isn't any municipal recycling that we've found. You can take your bottles and cans into the grocery store to cash them in, but nothing other than box cardboard goes out with the trash.

The flies came. Not many, enough to notice. I covered everything. I created a lid for our wastepaper basket out of another plastic bag. Eventually, I gave up and moved the garbage out of the kitchen to the back balcony. Inconvenient, yes. End of the flies? Sort of.

So as I wander around Göteborg, I notice in a few flower shops, mini Venus Flytraps. Is this, I wonder to myself, the Swedish way to deal with fruit flies? Are they a common nuisance? Does one feed them to one's plants? Will I have to create my own Little Kitchen of Horrors?

Last Thursday, Peter and I take one last 'think outside the box' trip to Bäckebol, home of the outlet stores. We find laundry hampers that are the right size. Lid? Check. Ventilation holes. Uncheck. Then, we see it. At Bauhaus, the Swedish Home Depot. In the bathroom department. A somewhat almost standard issue North American style kitchen garbage can with lid and foot pedal. Sold.

No more flies. No more fruit flies. Now we have 2 standard issue North American type house flies circling the light in the kitchen. They don't land, they just do circles. There used to be 3 of them, but I squished one and it scared the other 2 off for a couple of hours. But they're back.

Maybe I'll try the plant next.

Göteborg Air Show

When I was at Laurier, there was a French exchange student living on my floor. Her name was Marianne and she was from Grenoble. She chronically miscalculated on Canadian winter weather. When she looked out the window and saw one of those beautiful clear winter days when the sun is shining and the sky is a clear, cloudless blue, she thought that meant things had warmed up. We of course know that means exactly the opposite, that it's colder than crispy cold out so wear extra layers.

I'm having much the same problem as Marianne with my clothing choices here in Gborg. When it isn't windy and the sun is out, it is definitely short sleeves weather. When it's cloudy, it's cold. You could take an umbrella everywhere because even though it's sunny right now, there are always rain clouds somewhere in the environs and you may be about to get wet. Last Saturday for Marstrand, I read the weather forecast, decided shorts and a sweater were the order for the day, and nearly froze until the sun came out about 1pm. Yesterday for the air show was no different. I forgot to factor in the wind.

Having never been to an air show before, we brought mats to sit on, cameras, raincoats. I thought we'd be walking on tarmac the whole time, so 3 of the 4 of us wore runners. Guess what? We parked at the horse place next door, hiked through 2 fields and a woods to get to the tarmac. Remember what I said about the daily rain? Fields of mud and puddles. My feet were ok until I looked at them. It was a little like when the Coyote is chasing the Roadrunner, and he goes off a cliff but doesn't fall until he looks down. My feet didn't register as soaked until I looked at them. We hiked through more fields to get from part A to part B, then found the spongey plastic path (sort of a dock to get across the wet field), but once your feet are wet, wetter isn't really an issue, is it?

We saw some really neat airplanes, a good mix of fighter jets, historical planes, and choreographed precision flying. And they flew RIGHT OVER US! I don't think Canada would let you get that close. The height the F-16 flew straight up was incredible. We lost it in the clouds then had to listen to hear which direction it was coming back from. The Swiss precision team had their performance narrated in English which was nice. Odd that of all the languages the Swiss speak, the only one they had in common with the Swedes was English. 2 gliders did a routine to Sting's Fields of Gold, but it wasn't him singing and it was a nicer arrangement. By the time the Italian fighter team (like the Snowbirds) were on, we were walking back to the car, and watched them zoom right past us from the parking lot / field. Wow.

All of this took place at the Aeromuseum, an underground bunker the Swedish used during the cold war. They had most of it closed off, but what we did see was pretty neat. I will go back when my parents come over because I think my dad would enjoy it.

All things considered, it was a great day, but from here on, no more shorts (!!!!!!) only turtlenecks and parkas. If we go next year, I will be sure to wear my rainboots for the puddles and the mud.

Squeezee Food

What is it with Swedes and food in a tube?

Seriously - ham in a tube

bacon in a tube

prawns in a tube

other various fish products in a tube

but no squeezee cheese in a tube. That one at least I've seen before.

Try it on toast!

NOT!

Marstrand

Following Joan’s advice to make formal plans to get out of the city every weekend, last Saturday, we went to Marstrand. Marstrand is an island on the west coast, about 45 km from Göteborg. It is the site of a fortress, Carlsten’s Fästning, and in the early 1900s, was a vacation spot for the wealthy. As it turned out, Saturday was History day, and there were many people dressed up in costume from the turn of the century.

Having read the weather forecast which suggested it would warm- and sunny- up in the afternoon, I suggested shorts and jackets rather than long pants and sleeves. Well, when we got out of the car at Koon to get the ferry to the island, it was decidedly un-warm. And windy! Oh, but the smell of the sea was wonderful!

The trip across on the ferry takes about 2 minutes. Honestly, you could swim it if you had to. It’s a real ferry - the kind that runs on a cable and always goes in a straight line. You have to pay to get to the island. The trip back is free.

Most of the ferry passengers turned right toward the buildings. Never one to follow the crowd unless necessary, I suggested we turn left. This direction led past a smaller fortress, and over to the swimming spot. The island is a giant piece of granite, and one swims in the sea, off the rocks. They have a smaller enclosed space, still fed by the sea, which is apparently for children (I’d swim there - no jellies). There’s also a diving board. I’m quite sure it would be lovely on a sunny day, but I had my red gloves on by that point, quietly shivering in my sweater and shorts. There are walking paths all over this small island, and we followed the one that ringed the edge for quite a while, discovering puddles left over from the previous night’s heavy rain, and small waterfalls leading that water back to the sea. Fortunately, when it did start to rain, we were at a cross path that lead into the interior of the island, so bedecked in our raincoats, we explored the woods. It all looked very Bruce Trail once you lost sight of the sea. We even found a cave - a real cave, complete with firepit and sitting log, big enough to camp in.

Lunch was at Berg’s Konditori, and we found a table beside the water. Nothing fancy - just sandwiches and drink, but very pleasant.

After lunch, we climbed the hill to the fortress. Construction on Carlsten fortress started in 1658 after a peace treaty transferred ownership of the area from Denmark to Sweden, and the Swedish King decided it would be necessary to build something for defence, and it was an active military post until 1882. Our Erik Dahlberg, he after whom our street is named, was the military engineer responsible for much of the early construction. All in all, construction took over 200 years, which made exploring really interesting wandering between the different phases of construction. All of the rooms were built into the walls so you can imagine how thick those walls are! One section is called the ‘peace roofs’ because it was only covered with wooden roofs during peace time. During wartime, the roofs were removed to protect the soldiers from splinters and possible fire. Carlesten was also the site of a prison and various experiments in ‘serving time’, most of which were doing hard labour. There is a secret tunnel which winds within the walls, up lots of stairs, all over the fortress.This was the site of the first revolving lighthouse. The best part was probably the view over the sea from the top of the fortress. The sun had come out and warmed things up significantly. The sun on the sea with the breeze, well, it was pretty fabulous.

Needless to say, we were really tired from walking all day. After a quick drink, we headed home to the flat. I wasn’t in the mood to cook, and Elizabeth voted for pizza, so I headed off on a walk to re-find a place I’d thought looked promising when I was here in April. Great pizza - we’ll go back. No English. Of all the places to have to use Swedish, we had to use it in a pizza parlour?

p.s. Fika is spelled f-i-k-a.

Friday Fika

I'm quite sure I spelled Fika wrong. What it is is the Swedish equivalent of English afternoon tea. Sort of. Coffee and cookies, that kind of thing, I think. Peter's office has Friday Fika each week, but he hasn't participated yet. They tend to sit down to visit at about 2:30, then head for home once they're done. Early start to the weekend?

Today, A&E&I fika'd at a nice Konditorei beside the lower canal. We sat outside because inside spaces tend to be overheated. Andrew had something like a cake version of banana cream pie. I had tea with a lovely cinnamon danish, and Elizabeth, feeling quite virtuous is saving her pastry-points for tomorrow when we have plans to go to the island of Marstrand where, from what I've read, there is a very nice bakery.

Not a very busy day so far. We did a big hike to find the other branch of ISGR so Andrew would know where he goes when he has gym, and we bought agendas for both children. Here, everything is done by week. Skolstart is week 34. 1st week of holiday may be week 42. (Is that the 1st week of November?)

Peter's travel schedule has started which means that I will have to learn to drive. I was hoping to avoid driving, but I don't think there's a way around. What's nice for him (us) is that now we're here, he's gone for 3 days rather than a week, and there isn't the jetlag.

My pursuit of free wifi has landed me at the top of the road, sitting outside on a bench, hoping it doesn't rain. Apparently Gothenburgwireless has hotspots all over the city where you can wifi for free. I'm thinking maybe it's a hook to sign you up for a service e.g. we'll give you so many hours for free to test it out, then you have to start paying. Whatever - live free for today for tomorrow we may have to pay. I can live with that! (or if you're a Popeye fan, I'll gladly pay you tomorrow for a hamburger today).

skol

We've now toured both of the kids' schools. Elizabeth's was yesterday. It's enormous and she was, quite frankly, overwhelmed. There are 3 buildings, 4 if you count the temporary canteen (they're rebuilding the kitchen at the one on the property), and it's very hogwarts-like. When I was here in April, we got to see the teachers' lounge. It's like something out of an English hunting lodge. Hardwood floors, high ceilings with mouldings, a fireplace, club chairs. More like a gentlemen's club than a staff room. The steps in the stairwells are slate (I think) and they have wows in the middle of them from so many feet over the years (300 give or take). Andrew's school had a much friendlier feel when we were there today. Photos on the walls. Small rooms. Less labyrinth-like and only 1 building for most of his subjects. His homeroom is 229. He will have electives every other Tuesday from 9 - 10, 3 of which are choir, band, and astronomy. He will do wood-working as his 'tech'. The gym is up the road in the primary school, but we didn't manage to find it. There's a hike for another day. Andrew doesn't worry about stuff ahead of time. He'll have a meltdown once the work starts. Everything's fine for Sprout at this point. Except that he's currently losing his video game.

This will be a tough week for Elizabeth - it's the not knowing. She starts at 8:30 next Monday, as does Andrew, and will be 1 of 85 new kids. Only 15 of those are coming across from Andrew's school, ISGR, so she'll be in the same boat as many others. I think what she liked about ISGR was that it was small and friendly and there was the chance of extracurriculars or music and drama. When we asked her tourguide, a grade 12 student named Dawson from Turkey, if there were any extracurriculars at Hvitfeldska, Dawson's answer was, well, last year I did extra Chemistry. Her school is very academic, but I'm sure she'll find things to do other than hw once she gets going. We're looking for dance schools, for example. And she wants to do yoga.

My schedule starts next week too. Far as I'm concerned, I have to consider all PTA stuff mandatory. If I don't put myself out there, I won't make any new friends. I hate putting myself out there when I'm the new guy. Reaching out when you're etablished is much easier than hoping somebody finds enough value in you to start the conversation next time. Anyway, I start bright and early Monday morning with the PTA & coffee at 9 at ISGR. Friday, I have culture training with the Relocation service. The 31st, there is a coffee and walk with the PTA somewhere I haven't located on a map yet.

Here's to coffee and putting myself out there...

Sweden - Chapter 4 : Tour of the Flat

It’s hot here today. This morning, there was no breeze at all. It’s been windier this afternoon, and currently it’s pouring. The rain is coming down so hard it’s broken a piece off the drainpipe across the street, so instead of neatly running onto the sidewalk, it’s spewing like a shower. I’d like to be able to do better with a weather forecast than “look outside”. I guess I’ll have to buy a newspaper tomorrow and see how far I get trying to read it.

So our apartment (flat) is on the 2nd floor. In France, streetlevel is called the rez de chausée. Here it’s called BV. Technically, we’re on the 1st floor, 1 above BV, but because you have to climb 2 sets of stairs to get here, that to me is the 2nd floor.

Our building is probably 200 years old give or take. We have 12 foot ceilings with elaborate mouldings, BIG windows. Everything is white with hardwood flooring. One wall in the front hall is round because it’s the other side of the circular stairs at the front (marble tile). There is a balcony off the living room, overlooking Vasagatan. There is another balcony off the kitchen that overlooks the ‘courtyard’. The back one is more Salem friendly. The railing is made of plexiglass so he can see through it, and the opening at the bottom is too narrow for him to roll under. Andrew’s window opens onto the kitchen balcony, and Salem has discovered he can jump through. We’re probably teaching him bad habits, letting him do that.

Andrew’s bedroom is the smallest. He’s got his double decker IKEA bed, you know the kind with the desk under it? With the current curtains, his room is dark and kinda cave like, but he doesn’t seem to mind. What’s exciting about this room is the high ceiling. In Milton, Andrew couldn’t even sit up straight in bed without hitting his head. Here he can stand up and has to stretch to touch the ceiling. And magically the bed squeak has disappeared. Or else our room is just farther away enough I can’t hear it anymore.

Elizabeth’s room is beautiful. She also looks over the ‘courtyard’ but her room is much larger. Along one wall is a built-in closet with a big mirror and 2 sets of metal drawers. Her bed in Milton was an antique 3/4 pine bed. Here she has a white enamel queen bed that will be coming home with us. One thing I’ve learned about Swedes so far, they know how to put together a good bed!

Our master bedroom looks out over Vasagatan, which has meant that the street noise has taken a bit of getting used to because I like having the windows open at night. Peter chose a beautiful black wrought iron bed, also bigger than at home (apparently because they didn’t have the size he wanted in stock the day he went shopping). Our light fixture is extraordinary. It’s a ball of paper flower / snowflakes that is easily 3 feet in diameter. There isn’t one place in our Milton house where it would fit either because of the room size or the ceiling height. We also have a wall of built-in California closets, but there aren’t enough drawers, so we were off to IKEA again today to buy a dresser.

The dining room opens off either the hall or our bedroom. I had visions of making it this grand, elegant space because of the architecture of the room. Well, with an unlimited budget... But given what I brought to work with, let’s just say it’s going to be furnished in ‘late century eclectic’ meaning dogs’ breakfast. Everything looks too tiny in the space. Maybe with a different tablecloth... The dining room table is a door from Queens Park. It was cut 1 inch too short, so they couldn’t use it. It’s 6’ 11” long by 3’ - a good size, but somehow it’s not working. Add to the equation, my lace curtains which have hung in every place I’ve ever lived since moving out. They’re panels, about 3’ X 5’, not quite long enough for the windows. Very French. Not however very Swedish. I haven’t seen anything similar in any windows in our neighbourhood. Still looking for a ceiling fixture that will do justice to the space but won’t cost a bomb..... No electic lights in there at all at the moment.

The kitchen. I love halogen potlights. We have them in the hall and in the kitchen. The kitchen has a blond hardwood floor and white cupboards. More cupboard space than you could imagine. Hardwood countertops like giant cutting boards. Glass cooktop. Microwave is too small to fit a dinner plate. I figured out how to change the time on the clock, but we can’t get it to heat anything for more than 30 seconds at a time. The windows overlook the ‘courtyard’, and it has the balcony too. I’ve sort of figured out the oven. Peter defrosted the freezer - that was messy. It was frozen shut when we arrived. One giant ice cube. One wall is round because it is the other side of the back stairs.

The back door to the kitchen leads through a set of double doors, to the back staircase. Circular of course. Stone or slate. Down 2 flights takes you to the courtyard, the garbage, the ‘recycling’ pile (they don’t really recycle here - not the way we do anyway), and our bikes which live outside. Up 3 flights takes you to the attic and the storage lockers for the building. It’s a trip back in time, going up there. It even still smells like wood fire, even though the chimneys and fireplaces have all been blocked off. Our space is easily the size of 4 parking spaces. It would be a great place for hide and seek on a rainy day.

The living room is the 1st room you see when you come in and it’s probably the most ‘set’. We’re still looking for tv stands, 1 for the one we brought from Canada to watch DVDs and play wi, and the other one for watching regular swedish tv. We won’t have cable for another couple of weeks. The landline, tv, and internet are all supposed to be hooked up Aug 31. No electric lights in there yet either - candlelight at night.

Pictures when a) they’re worth taking because the room looks nice enough to show off and b) I figure out how to upload them. We’ll start with Andrew, a view out the back, and my amazing bedroom light.

Slut for now. (slut (sloot) = done; finished)

Sweden - Chapter 3

Another lovely summer day here on the balcony. It is now late afternoon, after 5. Saturdays here in Göteborg don’t have the hustle and rush they do at home. Stores close at 3 or 4pm. Sunday opening is only from noon to 2 or 3. Lots of pedestrian traffic, and of course, the cafés are busy. They’re always busy.

I know I said I’d tell the story of the movers and describe the flat today, but I’ve just figured out the laundry so I thought I’d talk about that instead.

It’s a front load washer for starters. I’m not used to that. The controls are all in Swedish, which I guess is a given. There is only an instruction book for the dryer. Hello Swedish / English dictionary! Fortunately, Peter has washed socks and undies before so he has a better idea than I do what to buttons to push. Start with something you can’t ‘hurt’ and see how that goes... Salem is fascinated by watching the water and clothes swoosh around. He can’t decide what to make of it. It’s kinda quiet so it isn't that scary. It moves so it’s interesting.

The dryer isn’t vented to the outside the way mine is at home. Instead there is a vatterbehälleren, a compartment that collects the moisture from the clothes, a condenser I suppose, that you empty för att garantera god funktion (best results) when drying.

Fingers crossed...

Sweden - Chapter 2

OK, it's official - I have seen everything. The blogsite headers are all in swedish. Better than that - everybody rides bikes here. and I mean EVERYBODY. An older lady just rode past all dressed up. Silk dress, matching jacket, 4 INCH HEELS, and (ready?) talking on her cell phone.

So here we are at Friday, day 4 (?) of living here. When last I left you, we hadn't boarded the plane and I was off to browse the duty free. Didn't make it. Called to board just as I hit the threshold of the shop. Flight was uneventful. Which is good. Arrived in Malmö on time, which is also good. Guy who cleared Salem's paperwork only gave it a mild one-over. Then we had to find the train. Reading signs in Danish.

Peter had checked out the train station in advance so he was pretty sure we were on the right track (literally - track 1) I'm trying to interpret signage and schedules using what little German I have. Salem has decided not to meow, which was helpful. We got all our stuff onto the train, found seats, thought we were all set, then the ticket chick tells us we're in a 1st class cabin (if you've never travelled European trains, 1st doesn't actually mean much) and we'll have to move or pay a surcharge. I voted for the surcharge to avoid moving. Arrived in Malmö to find the rental car. I managed to drop Salem. Well, to be fair, I stopped to take a picture, and he must have wiggled because his carry case fell off the top of my carry-on. He's robust - he turned out to be fine.

I have a theory about drunk driving. Exhausted wrong-time-zone travellers are a bigger threat. Peter didn't sleep on the plane. The car was a standard, which I don't do, so he was going to have to get us all the way to Göteborg which was 2 + hours away. It was also a smaller car than we had booked, so squooshing everything into it was more challenging. But we made it and set off into the countryside.

There are windmills everywhere. Huge windmills. They're in the shallows on the coast and in farmer's fields right beside the highway. Good road - dry conditions - sunny and warm out. Salem decided it was time to start talking, and to be fair, he'd already been in his box for a good 13 hours. Peter was ok until about 1 hour out of Gborg. I suggested we stop to give him a chance to jump around. He decided to supplement the jumping with some sugar and we made it safely to our street.

Our flat is GORGEOUS! It's like living in a palace, and I will tell you all about it in Chapter 3.

The Road to Sweden - Chapter 1

Flight is delayed. Sounds like we're going to be here for a while. This is my thing about flight schedules - they're all a 'ballpark'. Has a plane ever taken off when it was advertised it would?

Oh - announcement - changing gates. This may explain why there's no airplane outside the window at our gate.

Stay tuned...

Hmmm. New gate. No airplane here either. Best to settle in for a while.

Today started off ok. Things to do, but nothing overwhelming. Friends popped in yesterday or emailed / texted yesterday so I was in a good place. I was sent off well by the people I needed to be sent off well by. It all started to hit the fan about 2pm. The car to take us to the airport was supposed to arrive at 2:30. Mareika and Graham aren't gone 5 minutes yet, I'm not changed, a bunch of stuff wasn't done yet, and the guy is loading our bags into the car! Fine. We get all loaded, and I set him up to take a picture of us, a leaving shot if you will, and he doesn't like the way I've framed it up, so he moves. I hate patronizing men. The car is a stretch limo. It was the only thing big enough for us and our stuff (5 suitcases, 1 box, 3 carryons, 1 cat). The air conditioning in the car doesn't work. We have to open the windows. Salem starts to meow. It's hot in the back. Every time this guy brakes, we all go flying. Fortunately, it only takes about 1/2 an hour to get to the airport. We get the bags checked through - none overweight (minor miracle there - heaviest one was 64 lbs) and carry through to security.

I never manage to pick the right line. There was a reason that doorway had no one waiting at it. I think it must have been the girl's 2nd or 3rd day on the job because she was VERY THOROUGH - sent my purse through twice. Slower than molasses in January. We had to take Salem out of the bag to go through. One of the other security guys thought it was a hoot that a cat was travelling today. Too bad he wasn't scanning our stuff through. We'd have been through in 5 minutes instead of 15.

So that's about it for now. We're in a holding pattern until the plane is ready. It's now here, so that's a step in the right direction. A&E&I are travelling first class and Peter and Salem are going sardine class. I'm a little spoiled from flying first class. It is the best way to go. Mostly, I'm really tired and am hoping for good food, good wine, and a good movie before maybe getting a chance to rest before we get into Copenhagen.

OK - off to browse the duty free....

Now Voyager

Last night, I watched "Now Voyager" (1942) with Bette Davis.

The title is a quote from Walt Whitman:

The untold Want

By life and land ne'er granted

Now, Voyager

Sail thou forth to seek and find

It's the story of a journey of self-discovery. Along the way, Charlotte discovers not only herself but love, when she she meets a stranger on a cruise and they fall in love. This isn't the traditional movie kind of love where they end up together.

When their time together ends, they agree to love apart, he in his life, she in hers. Circumstances back in non-cruiseship reality prevent them from staying together. They have a mutual agreement that this is the way they knew it would have to be. What I admire in Charlotte Vale is her trust that their love lives on. She doesn't worry that out of sight is out of mind, but rather finds strength in knowing that he's out there somewhere, loving her still.

Just when you think you've thought of everything...

We're less than a week away from the move to Sweden and I thought I'd got just about all of it covered.

Here's today's aha:

We started out as 2 drivers with 4 vehicles - a motorcycle, a Mercedes 2 seater, a Volkswagon, and a big red bus of a Borrego. Because of the move, we had to find homes for all of them. Peter's sister adopted the Volkswagon. His dad will keep the motorcycle. The big red bus will go back to the dealership. By the end of Sunday, the family car for the 4 of us plus cat will be the 2 seater. Oops.

Let's hope all of us don't have to go anywhere at the same time.

Wonderful

Yesterday, Elizabeth and I drove out to Browns' Corners near St Marys for a family reunion. It was wonderful. So many special people. I wish I had committed us to go for the whole thing, but with the move to Sweden, I begged off and only went for church. Next time, we'll all go and the kids will play under the big trees at the school and memories will be made.