Gothenburg Rocks

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Gothenburg

I arrived in Gothenburg in one piece and decided to set myself a whole new challenge...let's see if the K can find her way to the hotel without the aid of a taxi! So immediately after getting off the train I made my way to the main entrance and reviewed the town map with vigourous scrutiny. Now if only I can actually follow directions. Only one small wrong turn and 10 minutes later I was standing in front of my home for the next two nights. Wooohooo! I can really do this travel thing now. The check-in counter was actually in the middle of the dining room and this was a hotel that included breakfast and dinner in the room rate. All of a sudden, I felt like I was in the middle of a playground, with a hot dog stand. Sausages and toddlers, what a weird mix. Ckeckin went pretty smoothly and I caught the lift and walked the lonely mile to my room (my room was the very last one on the floor and it was a very long corridor). What a treat, I had a double bed (the first since I arrived in Scandinavia) and a funky shower cubicle that looked like alittle space capsule...cool!

A quick spruce up, and I was ready to hit the town.

Although Sweden had impressed me so far, with the grandeur of Stockholm and the gentle 'prettiness' of Malmo, I have to say Gothenburg underwhelmed me as a town centre. Perhaps I's been spoiled by immersing myself in the Gamla Stans in the other places, but G'berg seemed too bland, industrial, grey and square.


I'd read in the Lonely Planet that there was an Irish Bar in town that is quite authentic, so I thought I should see whether there was much craic to be had. Again, only one false move and then I was on my way to the centre of town.

I somehow couldn't spy The Dubliner, so instead settled on what struck me as a rather local bar. I was a little peckish and noticed that people were eating, so I figured this was as good an option as any. I walked in and suddenly found myself too shy to try asking for a menu. I settled for a pint instead. I soon found a quiet little corner and settled myself in for a good piece of people watching.

I noticed a couple at the next table were taking photos of themselves, so I offered to take a a photo of the two of them. My good deed done for the day, I settled back to my beer. I could see the two of them putting their heads together and before long, the girl approached me to ask whether I'd like to join them as I was on my own. How could I refuse such a kind invitation?

I joined Christian and Renee with gusto and was surprised that they thought their English was no good, to my ears it was a lot better than some of the conversations I've had at home with native English speakers. They were a lovely couple from outside Stockholm and visiting Gothenburg to enjoy the second largest amusement park in Sweden. Two days later, there was a collapse of one of the rides collapsed:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/7508664.stm

The guys convinced me that I should try Snus as it is a VERY Swedish thing to do. Snus is actually tobacco in small net pouches about twice the size of of pellet style chewing gum. The idea is that one places this net pouch between your gum and top lip, somewhat to the side so as not to look to strange. At some stage, the nicotine in the tobacco will start to take effect. Seeing as I'd never indulged in tobacco products in the past, this was quite an adventure. Christian looked at me quite seriously and told me quietly that if I felt sick, to just take the pouch out.

I have to admit to feeling a very slight warm sensation on my gum where the Snus was applied and then a sensation of light-headedness that lasted maybe 10 minutes. After one more round, it was time for the guys to head as there are very strict drink driving laws in Sweden and they had an early start.

Poor old Christian, I could tell that he would have loved to get stuck in and Renee was keen too. Never mind, we had a quick word with the bouncer who steered me in the direction of The Dubliner (my original target) and bad the lovely couple farewell. What a wonderful introduction to Swedish people...I wonder who I would come across next?

The Dubliner

It seemed that I wasn't too far away from my original plan, so a 20m walk and there I was, at the front door of the Dubliner. The place seemed busy enough, but not packed. I made my way to the bar and ordered a pint. As the evenings are a little chilly, I had brought my coat with me, but once ensconced in the familiar surrounds of a porterhouse, I started to warm up. Luckily I spotted a couple of guys completely ignoring the perfectly good looking stool right next to them. I asked whether it would be ok to use the stool to store my huge bag (nicknamed Toto) and coat.

Luckily for me, these lovely gentlemen could speak English, unluckily for my liver, they were Scottish! One lad in particular took it upon himself to make sure I was comfortable and entertained throughout the evening. Many pints, many laughs and many requests for clarification ensued.

It seemed that I had arrived just in time for the Edinburgh team (Hibs) to be playing in Gothenburg. Either way, it was going to be a raucous evening. Before we knew it, the lower bar was closing, so there was nothing for it, but to head upstairs for the disco.

It seems the way that the Swedes handle this is to have a live band play songs that range from Guns 'n Roses to Ricky Martin. I can honestly say that I felt very much like I was living la vida loca by 04:30 the next morning. The sun had been up for a couple of hours by the time I made my way back to the hotel having promised Keith I'd look in on him and the lads the next night. Up the Hibs!

Trollhatten

Just in the door at 04:30 and up again at 08:00 to be sure I didn't miss the train to Trollhatten so I could go visit my friend Alex. I have no idea about the journey as I popped in my iPod and giggled to myself about all the silly things said and done during the previous evening's session. I was so looking forward to catching up with Alex again as I hadn't seen her in about 4 years.

Alex and I met in Cork way back in 2001 and have been firm friends ever since she showed me around the gorgeous countryside surrounding Mizen Head and made sure I felt like one of the locals in Crookhaven. She and Frederick are due to have a baby on 20th July, so it was with much anticipation that I leapt from the replacement bus (trackwork on that day). There, about 40m in front of me waddled the gorgeous Alex, all belly and smiles.

It is only a short walk to her place from the station, and we made good time (even with the waddling and the hang-over). Although there is only one bedroom, their apartment is a really good space and I was mighty impressed when Alex told me that they had installed their own kitchen. It looked like something from a showroom! Frederick's mother has given them his old crib and it now has pride of place next to the bed.

A quick catch up and introduction to Sabine (another friend of Alex's who happened to be visiting) and we were off for Fike. Fike is the Swedish tradition obsession with coffee and cake. Apparently it's what they do anytime between elevenses and seventeenses. Considering the strict drink driving laws, it makes sense to be able to catch up and socialise with friends wthout involving alcohol. If it includes cake, then I'm all for it! The three of us had a great girlie natter and Sabine got a great kick out of the saying 'Gay as Christmas'. Apparently, she can't WAIT to use it.

We headed back to the apartment and Alex and Frederick cooked up a storm for a late lunch. A very potent pasta and sumptuous salad - yum! Next stop, a bit of sight-seeing before enjoying an afternoon with another friend of Alex's (Marie). Trollhatten has a massive hydro-electric dam and cool locks. We just missed the letting out of the water, so chilled by watching a couple of yachts make their liesurely way up the waterway. What a way to while away an afternoon. We all agreed that being the toll collector on the locks would be a very cushty number indeed!

Back in the car, around the corner and we were in suburbia Swedish style. Marie lives in a very homely part of the town where houses line very orderly streets. Somehow or other, they Swedes can manage their boundaries without massive fences everywhere, so one feels like everyone esle's garden is just another aspect of their own.

Naturally this does not mean you can go and make yourself at home on someone else's lawn, but it made me think about the way people lived in more genteel times, where children played together and neighbours knew each other. It must also serve to ensure that people retain a certain standard of upkeep in their yards. As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but order and prettiness. I wondered whether the Swedes know that their architects have been using the Gingerbread house as a model for the past couple of centuries. But hey, if you're on to a good thing, stick to it (ice it even)!

We sat and let the evening descend upon us and all too soon, it was time for me to make my farewells. Frederick was playing a gig in Gothenburg that night and had kindly offered to drive me back to town. I have to say, it was very difficult to say goodbye to Alex as I don't know when I'll see her next and had felt that we were only just getting in to some good catching up. Never mind, the early departure gave me some alone time with the man who has swept her off her feet.

The hour's drive passed extremely quickly and Frederick and I touched on many topics including, the baby, the wedding, the band, the future and of course, the Swedish political landscape. It seems that Sweden also has a conservative, liberal, rural, green and outright nutter party. Lucky them! Farewell it was to the fair Frederick. I would have liked to watch his band play, but I knew that I had to be up and about at by 08:00 so I made sure I caught my bus to Oslo the next morning...famous last words!

The Dubliner - The Return

After being dropped off by Frederick, I thought it was time to get something to eat and explore some other parts of the town. Nothing really appealed to me and I wanted to keep my promise to The Hibs Army to look in on them as the game had been on earlier.

What greeted me was a Dubliner jam-packed with Hibs fans singing Scottish folk songs and football chants. It reminded me a little of being in the middle of the Barmy Army 'back in the day'. I somehow shoe-horned my way through the crowds and ordered a pint. With the pub being so full, I suddenly felt very, very short (despite wearing heels). I spotted my co-conspirator from the previous night (Keith) and he eventually made his way over to say hello. The passion and atmosphere in The Dubliner was fantastic, and Hibs didn't even win!

When is a Scotsman Welsh?

This evening in The Dubliner, I was in for a treat. Not only was the place rammed with people having a great time, but I was able to spot a STAR IN THE BAR. Irvine Welsh, author of Trainspotting was there..a Hibs fan through and through. I am now priviledged to claim that part of his pint now resides on my coat...thank you Irvine.

After a couple of minutes after Irvine got messy, Keith and I decided to go check out one of the local bars a bit further down the road. We ended up in some random bar mostly filled with Swedes and a local DJ playing a weird mixture of schlock and Swedish pop songs. Too funny. After a couple of hours in there we decided to call it a night as I was heading to Oslo at 10 the next morning. Of course, we had to be sure to fit one more pint in at The Dubliner.

No sooner had a got a couple of pints in than some random Scottish guy with really bad blonde tips whispered something to Keith. The impact of this news had a strange affect on my drinking buddy. He leapt to his feet, told me to give him 2 mins and raced our of the pub like a streak of lightening. The last I saw of him were his trainers and ankles viewed from beneath the awning surrounding The Dubliner. I later found out that the random guy had told Keith one of his mates was getting beaten up by some bouncers.

Never mind, a couple of the other lads seemed to be aware of what was happening and made sure I had some company. We were all getting along well and enjoying the banter for a good while when another guy, a big South African called Ian entered the conversation. It turns out that Ian owns The Dubliner and was enjoying our company so much that he allowed in to a lock-in and he was buying!

This had to be the weirdest lock-in ever as only the downstairs part of the bar was closed...upstairs was a nightclub with a licence until 5am.

Around 3:30 the lock-in ended and we trooped upstairs for a few more drinks. Before I knew it, it was 5am and time for me to head back to the hotel. Only 5 more hours until the bus to Oslo!

As we stumbled out of The Dubliner and bad our farewells I spotted a guy from the restaurant I'd eaten at earlier in the night. We nodded to each other and went our separate ways. About 5 mins later, I walked past him waiting for a bus right near my hotel...I assured him I was NOT stalking him and he seemed to be at least a little bit glad.

A couple of hours later, I checked out and boarded the bus for Oslo.

Gothenburg to Oslo

The bus trip was fairly uneventful although the scenery was gorgeous. I have to admit, the majority of it was lost on me as I was completely shattered from my massive night out. The poor guy next to me probably wished he had an iPod to block out my snoring as I snatched some shut-eye en route.

I guess the thing that stood out most for me was how green and wild everything looked even when one was barely outside a big city. Lush!

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