So after I left off last night, it was about 8:30 p.m. and I figured I would simply take the subway from Gamla stan and head back to Karlaplan, where my lodgings are located. When I got to the subway station, I gave Hans a call to ask him how he was feeling. He told me that he was doing much better, and given the fact that he was not working the next day because it is a statutory holiday (May 9th is Ascension Day in Sweden), he invited me to his condo in Södermalm for a glass of red wine. I took the bus to the Sofia station and got to his place shortly after 9:00. He served me a nice Spanish wine, and we sat down in his parlour to watch Swedish-language TV from Finland, and chat. There was a programme on the Eurovision Song Contest, which will be held in Malmö, Sweden this month. Then, he showed me a clip on his iPad of the Romanian entry in this year's contest: a man singing falsetto. It was so bad it was good...
I left his place around 11:30 p.m. and took the bus out to Slussen, and then a subway back to my lodgings. I got in around 12:15 p.m., and Jarl was already sleeping, so I quietly went to my room and fell asleep.
I woke up this morning very early on, probably around 7:00 a.m., because Jarl was making an awful lot of noise in the kitchen. I think he thought I was already out the door (or maybe even that I hadn't even come home last night). I tried as much as possible to keep sleeping, but just sort of lay there until 9:00 a.m., when I decided to get up. I showered, got ready, and left the flat around 10:30 a.m. I had no definite plans for this morning, but I would be meeting Hans for the opera this afternoon at the Kungliga operahuset. So, I grabbed a lemon muffin and a bottle of water at the 7-Eleven at the end of the street and caught the subway to Centralen. Once I got there, I found the information office and asked whether the Royal apartments, the Strindberg museum and the Akademibokhandeln were open today, because of it being a holiday. All three were scheduled to open at noon, so I had about an hour to kill. I gradually made my way to the Strindberg museum, which is housed in the last house Swedish playwright August Strindberg occupied from 1909 to 1912. I know Strindberg from his play "Miss Julie", which I had to study in my undergrad, and from his play "The Father", which a read a number of weeks ago. I stopped at a small cafe along the way, because it had somewhat decent prices (relatively speaking) and ordered a croque-monsieur (toasted ham and cheese sandwich) with a Swedish beer, for roughly 22 dollars Canadian. Prices in Stockholm are a lot more expensive than I remember them being, and not just because this time I am dividing by 6, whereas in 2010, the Canadian dollar was worth more and I was dividing by 7.
After that quick lunch, I got to the Strindberg museum, and just like at the information office earlier that morning, and at the small cafe, I did all of my transactions strictly in Swedish. This total immersion is so good for me and I am learning a lot. I am still amazed that I have the capacity to function in Swedish. And it feels really great.
The Strindberg museum was divided into two parts: the first was an exhibit on his works, featuring original manuscripts, and film clips of productions made from his plays. The other part of the museum was a tour of his actual apartment, including his study, where he wrote his works, as well as the bed in which he died from stomach cancer in 1912. I was hoping to buy an English-language translation of his most famous novel, Röd rummet (The Red Room) at the museum, but they only had the Swedish version. I left the museum around 1:00 p.m., with plenty of room to make it to the opera house to meet Hans at 2:30 p.m., so I slowly made my way downtown. I figured at this point, I would not have time to visit the royal apartments (maybe something I can do tomorrow), so I went in search of the book store Akademibokhandeln. I was especially interested in finding that book by August Strindberg, as well as anything in an English translation by Swedish writer Selma Lagerlöf. The prices for these two books were ridiculously expensive. Keep in mind these were paperback versions: the Strindberg book was 240 SEK (about 40 dollars Canadian), while the Lägerlöf was 180 SEK (about 30 dollars). I am absolutely sure I can order these online for a fraction of that cost!
I left Akademibokhandeln and, being in the neighborhood, made a quick stop at the Adolf Fredriks kyrka, where I remembered former Swedish prime minister Olaf Palme is buried. He was gunned down by an unknown assassin in February 1986. From there, I just stumbled upon the staircase that figures prominently in the ABBA video "Head Over Heels", the one that Frida runs up and down on. I had to take a picture... and then run up and down it.
I was still way early, so I stopped inside Sankt Jakobs kyrka, where the funeral of ABBA manager Stikkan "Stig" Andersson was held in 1997. Upon entering the church, a poster caught my eye: it was an advertisement for the bi-monthly mass service for LGBT people. I was suitably impressed.
I finally got to Kungliga operahuset about 20 minutes ahead of schedule, so I called Hans to let him know that I had arrived, and he told me that he was on his way, on his bike. So I sat down on the steps and kept writing my postcards. By the time he arrived shortly after 2:30, I had practically finished them all: I only have one left.
The opera we saw was "Il trovatore", by Italian composer Giuseppe Verdi. I knew going in that I would not understand very much of it. Not only was it sung in Italian, with Swedish subtitles only, but it is well-known as the most complicated plot in opera history, and I knew absolutely nothing about it going in. I could sometimes make out two or three complete screens of subtitles at a time, but then a few screens would come up where I could not understand a single word. And the music was so beautiful that it was lulling me to sleep. I'll admit that it was a struggle during at least the second act to keep my eyes open. At intermission, Hans told me that it was no wonder I was having a hard time following, because on top of all of the other difficulties, the translator chose to use archaic Swedish. I had to laugh. Anyway, Hans had come prepared and offered me coffee he had brought along in his backpack, in my own Pippi Longstocking cup, with milk and sugar, as well as a Swedish treat he got me for fika (the traditional mid-afternoon snack). It was an apple mazarin, very tasty.
The second half of the opera was somehow easier to follow, partly because the caffeine made me more alert. All in all, a wonderful production of a beautiful opera, and the soprano, Agneta Lundgren, who played Azucena, was noteworthy. I would even say she stole the show.
As we left the opera, Hans suggested that if I wasn't doing anything, perhaps I could join him and a few friends for dinner at a great pub in Södermalm. It was 6:00 p.m. then, and I wasn't doing anything, so he told me to take the subway to the Zinkensdamm subway station, and he would bike there to meet up with me so that we could go out for dinner. He didn't know the name of the pub but said it was near a McDonald's. Surprisingly, I was able to spot him in the pub whose name no one can remember, and I sat down and was introduced to his friends Reinhold and Jens, who have been together for more than 20 years. I was relieved to finally see a menu with half decent prices, so I ordered pytt i panna (Swedish hash, consisting of hash browns, bacon and a fried egg. I had had this meal in 2010 and really enjoyed it). I also ordered a couple of Swedish lagers. My meal was delicious, and with the two beers, came to just over 20 dollars Canadian, a real bargain. I got along very well with Jens, who is Norwegian by birth, and Reinhold, who was born in northern Sweden, on the Finnish border. Probably because of the 20-year age difference between the two of them, I got on particularly well with Jens, who, at 47, is closer in age to me. He sent me a Facebook invite, so I might just have someone else to write to in Swedish. But I have to say that our conversation tonight was in English, probably because they know just how limited my listening skills are at the moment.
After dinner, Hans suggested we go to the only gay bar on Södermalm, around 7:30 p.m. I believe it was called Side Tracks. As we entered, I immediately feel in love with the place: on the loud speakers, ABBA's "The Day Before You Came" was playing. They followed that up with Madonna's "Borderline", then with Blondie's "Heart of Glass". If nothing else, the place had great music. I enjoyed a Jameson whiskey and great company.
We left this venue fairly early, before 9:00 p.m., and we each went our separate ways. I caught the subway out to the 7-Eleven near my lodgings, where I am now putting the finishing touches on this post. Tomorrow is my last full day in Sweden, and I am already feeling very, very sad about leaving this country, the new friends that I have made, and especially this full-immersion in the language and the culture. Not only will it be my last full day in Sweden, but it will also be the half-way point (already!) of my trip. Sigh! Oh well, off to bed.
No comments:
Post a Comment