Archive for July, 2010

Stugan, June 2010

Friday, July 9th, 2010

As my Sis had never been to Sweden, we pencilled in the week before Midsommar. Usual Ryanair ridiculousness and Stansted, but we were on time-ish. Everything went ok at´the far end as well – and many crappy radio stations later, we were at Norrtälje in Flyggfyran (supermarket) bying beer, and other such essentials. Well, that’s a lie, in Sweden it is AGAINST THE LAW to by decent beer in a supermarket, you have to go to a state run off-licence… But still, it worked.

Got to the Stuga and set about eating and drinking. Which we did admirably.

The next day it was off to the sea. The proper sea, on the East coast. And we decided to walk… Going there was fine. We got to see the sea. The route coming home was looking a little more tiresome though, so Sis decided that we should go cross-country. No man has trod the path that we took, I’m sure. Many, many flying things loved that route though. In the end, we got it kind of right, appearing in someone’s back garden somewhere near where we wanted to be.

Thursday was off to Norrtälje and we met BFG and family at Flyggfyran. We stocked up and headed off for lunch, leaving BFG in the meat section… Ahem.

After a leisurely lunch and a nice wander around town, we got a cal from BFG telling us that they had just left the supermarket. Oh dear. As it happened we ended up following them back to Stugan. Only BFG needed a quick stop at Woody. (After him loitering in the meat section, I was starting to get worried that my long time friend was hiding something…) I beeped jovially and drove on. When we decided to stop for ice cream I called BFG and asked how it was in Woody. There was a long silence, followed by a howl of laughter. “Oh, that was YOU hooting” exclaimed the closet “DIY” enthusiast. “I was calling you all the names under the sun”. No change there then….

A very convivial evening followed, with Pimms (eventually) and lots of laughs.

The next morning was Midsommar’s eve (yeah, I know) so we had to set up the table for an early lunch of pickled raw fish, and other delights. As I was driving, no Aquavit for me (boo hiss). Still, my singing was no worse for it… All too soon it was off to the airport. Got there with hours to spare… Ish. But then again, there wasn’t exactly a lot to do there. Pretty soon we were back at Stansted, after having Barry’s favourite: Salami sandwiches, on the flight.

The evening at Epping Upland was, as ever, great. A nice dinner and plenty of wine.