Sunday, 29 November 2009
To make a long story short, it turned out that the guy next to me was working, and living, on a pig farm. And pig farms smell. A lot. I am sure that he had showered, and he was very nice, but the smell.. oh the smell.
This was the one time I wished that I had been wearing a burka, since I could not very well cover my nose for the ten odd hours the flight took. Fortunately, I lost the sense of smell somewhere over Kiev. Many of my co-passengers, however, didn´t and I could see that they were wondering which one of us was the smelly one.
I am also afraid of mixing up time of important meetings, taking wrong meeting rooms etc etc. Until now I have never been afraid to go to the wrong airport though. In fact, it never even occured to me. So, imagine my surprise, when I, last time I was in Sweden, witnessed a couple having a huge fight because they have done just that. They had crossed the entire Stockholm going south west, to Bromma, when they should have crossed and gone north west to Arlanda. They had just realised their mistake and were furious with each other, as both claimed it was the other one´s fault. I tried not to eavesdrop, but by the state of them am fairly sure that they have filed for divorce by now.
So, there I am, Monday morning, happy about a mistake I haven´t done yet, and since there weren´t any free seats, I waited for the boarding standing by the exit. I was second in line, after a obviously very important and busy businessman. He was juggling betweens texting and calling on his Blackberry and was the image of a busy bee and, needless to say, very very obnoxious and annoying. When the stewardess had checked his boarding pass he took off with zeal of his own, and you can imagine my surprise, not to mention his, when the opening he strode through, turned out to be glass. The bang made the entire terminal freeze. If he hadn´t been so pompous, I might have felt sorry for him, especially when I saw that he had made an imprint on the glass, where especially his left nostril was clearly visible, but he had been so full of himself that my schadefreude simply flourished. I giggled all the way to the airplane, and noticed only when I was just about to climb the stairs into the aircraft that this was, in fact, wrong plane. I had been so fuelled that I passed my plane and tried to board one that was going to Kiruna instead of Århus. So, boarding the wrong plane is a new worry of mine.
Friday, 30 October 2009
Honestly, I once saw a book in Sweden actually printed with a recommendation from Köpingbladet, and I wanted to cry. My Swedish favourite is when the book about the illustrious Mitford sisters was printed with recommendation claiming that Shakespear could not have written a better story. I dare say he didn't.
Of course, when one of Dan Brown´s was reprinted with the claim "probably the most intelligent and accomplished author of our time" not only was I hoping that Heineken would sue, but please? Really?
Thursday, 29 October 2009
Friday, 23 October 2009
Thursday, 22 October 2009
Wednesday, 21 October 2009
I love London. It does not have the elegance of Paris or the buzz of New York, but only in London are you overtaken by four horse- and carriages, accompanied by riders, and it turns out being a school on their way to - I think- polo practise. All the kids have riding outfits, that there is a professional name for, I am sure, and look so English you have to hold yourself back in order NOT to turn into a paparazzi..
Passing a real estate agent, I noted that the flats don't have living rooms, but reception rooms.
I remember reading in a book (84 Charing Cross, by Helène Hanff) that if you go to London in search of the literature, you will find it. Since I much rather shop for books than for anything really, my big problem was the airline limitations. (and, of course, the limitation of getting to the place that currently is my home- it is so isolated from anywhere that it might as well be Sibiria) (my impression is however, that through the history of times, it has been very easy to be sent to Siberia, so this would be the key difference..)
Anyway, after coming home (which again, very very difficult and involved crawling, begging and buying a bottle of champagne to get a lift) I am all of twelve books richer and, am just embarking on placing a post order for more of the above. And, like a child at Christmas, this little pile was arranged so that it would be the first thing I saw when I woke up. (needless to say, getting up and going to the bathroom in the middle of the night dis-arranged the pile and nearly killed my toe - another advantage of paperbacks..)