I’m sure the guy at my local kebab shop thought I was stoned.
Having spent most of the day in a coma-like state, I went to the kebab shop seeking some nourishment.
I greeted him with “hej”, the Swedish word for “hello”, and then quickly realising what I’d done, burst into laughter.
As he prepared the kebab, I kept giggling. Partly because of what I’d said, and partly because I’m feeling a little crazy.
At the end of the transaction I explained that I was jet-lagged, and even though I’ve known him for several years and he knows I’m not that kinda guy, I still think he didn’t quite believe me.
But it’s almost ten o’clock and I’m quite awake.
I’m sure a couple of glasses of wine will help me get back to sleep at a reasonable hour. As it’s Good Friday, thankfully I had the good sense to buy something duty free as I came through customs.
Yes, I have wine. But unfortunately I don’t have luggage. My luggage remains somewhere between Stockholm and Sydney.
I’m presuming the problem occurred at Bangkok, as that’s where the couple ahead of me in the queue identified the problem for them in a quick changeover.
Co-incidentally, they have been living in Stockholm for the last six months. “Oh you were there for the worst of it?”, I asked. They half-smiled in response.
They were a lovely couple who were back in Australia for a few weeks, and who were driving to Canberra, ahead of spending a few days with friends in the country.
I felt sorry for them. They only had the clothes they were standing in. At least I could come home.
And while the bloke was fairly philosophical about it all, the girl wasn’t. “We have to change our clothes. We’ve been wearing them since Tuesday”, she said. “And you need to change your underwear”, she added, to which he replied, “I don’t have to wear underwear”. Such a boy. Thankfully, they thought of a nearby friend they could ask for assistance.
I wished them all the best for their trip, and re-assured them they would fall in love with Stockholm during summer. “Yes, that’s what everyone says”, she said.
I have a vague re-collection of some phone calls today, all of which were ended shortly after those on the line recognised my somewhat fragile state. And so if you did call me today and I sounded a bit strange, I want to assure you also, I’m a little jet-lagged. I’m not stoned.
3 responses to “I’m Not Stoned”
Welcome home James.
I had that adventure both ways on my first trip in 2006…..thanks Finair!
Thanks for your wonderful 2010 winter journey in Sweden.
Now I can continue on reading your blogs from your first visit in 2008 :-)…….thanks to Graeme’s blog that I discovered yours.
Thanks guys for the welcome backs.