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Lilla flygplanet! Stora flygplanet!

The journey home was quite a quiet affair for the most part. The first leg of the journey was completed in a train that was only one carriage in size and clearly not expecting so many cases, as they wouldn’t fit. The next leg was quietly spent in the vestibule, and the journey across london was quiet and uneventful. The final leg was amusing as the guard on the train knew what Steampunk was as he was a re-enactor. He called us ‘steampunkers’ though – but can’t complain too much – he was lovely. We also had a long chat with a businessman on the train who was interested in steampunk simply from seeing our clothes.

My evening in Reading was wonderful. It felt great to see all my friends after the last couple of months away. I had a lovely chat with Faith, and she told me some things that I really needed to hear if I’m honest, and it was all-round a great evening. My friends made me laugh just as much as usual and we took great pleasure in winding each other up about stuff. Tom, Adam and Phil were great to put us up for the night too.

On Tuesday daytime I spent the day with Anna and we had lunch at Wagamamas. It was lovely. We had a wonderful long chat about the world and everything in it, and it really did me good. We went to see Abi at work, and she was on a post-asylum come-down so hard it was painful. Gave her a hug or two to make it better ^^. Anna also bought my xmas/birthday present of the new His Dark Materials compendium, which is possibly the prettiest book I have ever seen!

And then came time to go home. We packed our bags, said goodbye to our friends and hopped on the bus to the airport. Bought some alcohol in the airport ( rum and whiskey for those interested) and got on the plane, pith helmet on head. The further through the flight the more i began to feel terrified about the prospect of moving to Sweden. I began to feel rather out of my depth, which was worrying. The trip was however very pretty: we flew against the sunset, and the colours of the sky were impressive! There was a bit of turbulence on a couple of occasions ( Emil’s response: ‘That was not pleasant.’) and then finally, we arrived in Gothenburg.

We hopped on a bus which took us straight to where we live. We walked down the road, and I opened the door. Our block of flats is a really old-fashioned one, and it’s decorated in a very old style. The lift is possibly the most terrifying thing I have seen in my life: it’s one of those old fashioned things made of wood and brass with a wooden seat in it. The iron grille across the front looks suspiciously swastika-like, and the thing scares the life out of me, as much as i think it’s rather beautiful at the same time. The stairs are kinda spirally, and it makes me a bit dizzy going down them, but I prefer to walk than the lift at the moment – it’s freaky!

Anyhow, we got in the lift, got to our floor and I opened the door and came in.

And I cried.

I put the mattress into the bedroom and it didn’t fit ( just like I said it wouldn’t). There are small cracks in the ceiling. There’s absolutely no furniture other than Emil’s evil desk-chair and his desk. There was no tea or milk or sugar. We didn’t even have bedclothes for the second mattress!

And so I cried. And Emil admitted that now I had mentioned it, maybe the flat wasn’t as perfect as he had thought when he came to visit the first time. And I carried on crying. It happens sometimes, particularly when I’ve moved house. I get sad and feel lonely and feel the pull back to somewhere else, and all that I need is a good long cry. So I did.

And the next day i spoke to everyone on Skype. I cleaned the kitchen stuff and put it away in the kitchen. We went to ICA and bought milk and sugar and tea, and Emil ended up late for work. We sorted out the internet! And that wasn’t so bad.

And yesterday I went to  the gardens up near the avenue, and it was beautiful there, and I really enjoyed my walk, and we went to ICA again and got some other things we were missing. And then I got upset later on because I felt lonely. I met someone on the stairs but they turned out to be a Jehovah’s Witness and that was some of the only human interaction I had that day. I cried last night too because the flat was crap and we didn’t have furniture and i missed having a chair that didn’t try to kill me when I sat in it.

Which brings us to today. We didn’t go anywhere this morning, but Emil tried to sort out a bank account for me. Everyone either needs a personnumber or for me to have a job already before they’ll give me one. It appears that the best course is to get another card for Emil’s account and to make it joint at the moment, because it’s currently chaos. Also, I paid Emil the rent through transfer, and I really hope we did it right because otherwise it’ll be a costly mistake!

Then this afternoon I went for a few more rambles. I worked out that the building with the pretty dome was/is a hospital, and that the closest postbox is at the end of our road, but there’s another one down the opposite direction too, which is a nice walk away. I then went to ICA on my own ( a different one) and bought some cranberry juice and some stock cubes so I could make some stew, and I managed the whole transaction in Swedish without resorting to ‘Sorry, I’m British’, which is a success.

So I made some stew, sat down, and started writing, hence the behemoth of writing you have before you. Well done if you’ve read so far: you’re doing well.


Also, I can hear people on the rides at Liseberg even now. Might add earplugs to the list.



About Lady Octavia

I'm Charlie I spent a year living in Sweden and I'm now a full time librarian in a primary school in the UK. In my spare time I have an allotment, I sew and I bake.

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