Trip to Sweden 2010

Part II

Sunday, May 9th

During my sleep, I dreamed that a bird flew into a room that I was in.  When I awoke, I went downstairs and ate breakfast with Cebe.  At this moment, a bird flew into the house.  Although it was neat that I foresaw this in my dream, I lamented that I did not dream of more profitable matters like a dramatic rise in the shares of a company that makes a spray that smells like the 70’s (a mix of the following crucial aromas: wood paneling, sweat, a cookout, leather and carpet).

Another thing to note was that during the previous night, I dreamt that I was walking outside near some interesting vegetation when Margaretha came over and started gathering it.  “What’s this?” I asked.  “Oh, it’s marijuana,” she answered.  She then walked away and I wondered if this substance would find its way into our dinner.  So far this has not happened but you’ll know if it did if I start writing about, well, there will be no discernable difference between my current writing and any drug-induced scribbling.

After some professional-strength hanging around, we ate a lunch of salad, bacon, eggs, bread and red wine.  Cebe then decided to take me over to the house of a Danish couple at the edge of his property.  The Fransens sold the couple a couple of acres that included a barn.  As we walked over, we met up with another neighbor, Anders.  The three of us looked around the edge of Cebe’s property for dead trees that needed to be cut down because that’s what men do when they’re not busy eating whiskey-soaked French fries or pummeling somebody. 

The three of us walked to the barn of Jasper and Gitte which was being gradually transformed into a neat house.  The fine couple showed us around the place and brought note to their most recent architectural advances.  Soon after, we were involving ourselves in impressive qualities and quantities of red wine to celebrate some lovely building milestones for Jasper and Gitte.  Soon Anders went back to his house as Margaretha tagged into this festive match.  Jasper, Cebe and I began to discuss fine beer, healthcare, politics and too many other jazzy concepts to mention.  Suddenly, multiple hours had passed, pipes/cigars/cigarettes had been smoked, Japanese whiskey somehow snuck its way into our presence and bodies and even Enya had the audacity to creep into the random music mix, clearly signaling that things were escalating to a dangerous level.

Margaretha, Cebe and I therefore bid farewell and went back to the house to eat.  And yes, I did manage to savor some nice Chilean wine, small steaks and a spot of brandy.  As we dined, Cebe told us an interesting story of the wine we were drinking.  Apparently, although made in Chile, the grape used in the wine originally comes from France.  Hundreds of years ago, the grape was sent to South America since the grape began to die out (and eventually did completely) in its native France.  The grape then began to die out in South America and was thought to be extinct until ten years ago when some master-tongued wine taster researched some wine he encountered in Chile and discovered it to be the grape thought to be extinct.  It’s nice to hear a happy ending to one of those “Have you seen me?” pictures you see on the side of milk cartons.

By this point, I had to accept the Leaving Las Vegas nature of my day.  All that was missing was my Elizabeth Shue but something told me she would not be found in this Swedish countryside.  The three of us dug further into the conversational mine shaft that we had been working on as I made the bold decision to drink two espressos.  Shortly after, we retired like old employees. 

Monday, May 10th

Note to the world: If you typically don’t drink espresso, please refrain from drinking two before bed or you will end up being the key subject in your own, extremely successful sleep deprivation study.  I perhaps took in three hours of sleep last night.  In addition to the fatigue, I was also disappointed in my lack of juicy dreams that I was having.

After breakfast Cebe offered me a guided tour of some desirable locations in the south of Sweden.  We equipped his old pickup with our bodies and headed first to Söderåsen National Park to view an ancient volcanic lake and valley.  Wowed by Mother Nature’s generous gifts, we drove west to a peninsula of land that was home to many lovely seaside villages and Kullaberg National Reserve.

On our way back and clearly running out of conversational topics, Cebe and I talked about fighting.  Ironically, the both of us had not been in a fight since our extreme youth but put two fellas in a red pickup truck and it’s just a matter of time before slugfest stories take center stage.

Once home, I made the physical decision to change my Leaving Las Vegas script for the day by avoiding drink so that my stomach could achieve peace.  Cebe then grilled some fine hamburgers and we ate them in fine style, leaving me to find sleep soon after.

PART III