I'm all packed up now for my trip to Italy tomorrow. I like packing, it's like making an inventory of my life, preparing for a new thing, chosing things, discarding things, what do I need, how hopefull am I that the weather will stay at +35C with no rain? How much room shall I leave in the suitcase for winebottles on the way home (this is the most important thing, last year I managed six bottles in a small cabin case coming back from France, Budapest, only four and a half)?
The friend I'm travelling with is at home washing all his new clothes to avoid them looking to new when he gets down to Italy. I think he wants to turn up in Verona, stroll in to some café and be taken for a local.
Swedes have a strange habit when we travel, God forbid that we should talk to any other Swedes, or even make ourselves known to any other Swedes. I don't know if any other country does this but with Swedes it's a thing of honour, our holiday is not as genuine if we meet other Swedes, not as exclusive. I mean, dear God, Herr and Fru Eriksson from Bandhagen made it all the way here too, how exclusive can it be? Never mind the hundreds Japanese milling around the sights, if we spot another Swede the place is immediatly classified as "touristy".
Don't know why I rambled on to that topic, probably because I know I'll do it myself. I know I'll be sitting in some café in Venice, talking English to the Aussie friends I'm travelling with and eaves-dropping on the Swedish family next to me, rolling my eyes at my equally Swedish friend at how "touristy" they look. It has even developed in to a game. When I was in Melbourne years ago with some Aussies we would spot the Scandinavians in the crowd and I would then sneak up, stand next to them for a while and listen in to see if we were right. We usually were, Scandinavians, especially Swedes, Finns and Norweigans, stand out like sore thumbs in any international crowd. It's a combination of looks, hair style, dress style and height. Even a Swede who has lived abroad for many years is easy to spot, it's just something rather undefinable which is impossible to shed.
Wine, mum's cooking and a returned brother is calling me from upstairs in the summer house. Will return in little over a week with a belly full of Italian food and wine.
/Mel
fredag, juli 21, 2006
torsdag, juli 20, 2006
the language
Why do I write in English rather than Swedish?
I grew up with both langauges and use them both equally. Sometimes Swedish is easier to use, it is, ironically, easy to use if you want to be depressed. It sounds like a cliché but it's true, for me at least. I can never write miserable thougths in English, I'm never depressed in English in my mind.
But I write better in English simply because it's a bigger language, I read more in English and my vocabulary is bigger in English. So many ways to twist the words around, so many words to use.
When I get back from my holiday, write something about the greatest author in the English langauge, Laurie Lee. Then you'll see why I write in English.
Släng dig i väggen Strindberg!
I grew up with both langauges and use them both equally. Sometimes Swedish is easier to use, it is, ironically, easy to use if you want to be depressed. It sounds like a cliché but it's true, for me at least. I can never write miserable thougths in English, I'm never depressed in English in my mind.
But I write better in English simply because it's a bigger language, I read more in English and my vocabulary is bigger in English. So many ways to twist the words around, so many words to use.
When I get back from my holiday, write something about the greatest author in the English langauge, Laurie Lee. Then you'll see why I write in English.
Släng dig i väggen Strindberg!
The Bush Capital
I used to live in Canberra, capital of Australia. Somethings there always made me giggle.
In Canberra it's legal to grow and maintain two (or was it five?) marijuana plants for personal use.
In Canberra prostitution is legal (to some degree, special brothels or something).
In Canberra it's illegal to ride your bike without a helmet.
Canberra is the only place in Australia were they have these laws (or had, the helmet thing may have spread since).
Only laywers, politicans and students live in Canberra (that may explains the priorities).
What we always wondered about was if it would be ok to ride your bike whilst smoking weed and having sex with a hooker, as long as you had your helmet on?
I never got an answer to that.
In Canberra it's legal to grow and maintain two (or was it five?) marijuana plants for personal use.
In Canberra prostitution is legal (to some degree, special brothels or something).
In Canberra it's illegal to ride your bike without a helmet.
Canberra is the only place in Australia were they have these laws (or had, the helmet thing may have spread since).
Only laywers, politicans and students live in Canberra (that may explains the priorities).
What we always wondered about was if it would be ok to ride your bike whilst smoking weed and having sex with a hooker, as long as you had your helmet on?
I never got an answer to that.
tisdag, juli 18, 2006
This blog thing
This blog thing doesn't really suit me. I'm active at three or four different boards around the net and make posts everyday. I read and comment on three or four blogs every day. But to make post on my own blog seems impossible, I'm just never inspired enough to make contributions to my own blog. Maybe I should just make links to all my other comments around the web or something.
But anywho, I'll make another attempt at putting something at least each day.
Except next week, then I'll be in Italy. Not that they don't have internet in Italy, I just won't be sober enough to even turn the computer on I think.
In vino veritas.
/Mel
But anywho, I'll make another attempt at putting something at least each day.
Except next week, then I'll be in Italy. Not that they don't have internet in Italy, I just won't be sober enough to even turn the computer on I think.
In vino veritas.
/Mel
Prenumerera på:
Inlägg (Atom)