The evening of Saturday, June 10th found us with jumbotron action for Sweden’s first game in the World Cup. A disappointing 0-0 tie, but a spectacle by the water in Sodertalje, nonetheless.
Sunday, we dined with The Swede’s uncle and family; a grand affair, with a table spread the likes that found us wondering which glass housed which alcoholic beverage. Since herring was served, “snaps” was in order, as well as the traditional Helan gar song. The natives sang first, and our hosts graciously provided “Svenglish” lyrics but righteously mocked our attempts to sing along.
The afternoon’s Bocca, warm weather, and company found us reluctant to go.
Monday, we took a chance on a tour of nearby Stockholm. And Mamma mia, we found a great street perch to catch the changing of the guard. The marching band, who struck up a tune that took a while to figger out its Fernando familiarity, only to finally pin it down as ABBA’s “Waterloo.” Who knew? We chased it with a great tour of the Vasa museum and the oldest ship that never quite sailed. So ended our Swedish sojourn, and we were off to Brussels.
1 comment:
Careful with that Bocca. If the Swedish version is anything like the Italian version, it'll have you in traction. -Craig
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