Sometimes I amaze even myself with my staggering incompetence
Arriving in the (very) small town of Matfors on Day one of this trek, I realised I didn’t have a place to stay
After aimlessly stumping up and down the main street for a while in an increasingly bad mood, I sought refuge in a cafe where a group of good natured locals confirmed there was no B and B in town
But they bought me a beer while one made a series of callls. I received two offers but ended up staying with a delightful retired couple callled Liz and Ingemar.
Spent a lively evening in the local bar with locals who must surely be descendants of Olaf the Viking himself. They were big, blonde and – as the evening wore on – prodigiously pissed.
Bottles of expensive beers were clunked together in friendship. Songs were sung very loudly. One chap fell off his chair, dragging bottles with him as he clung fruitlessly to the tablecloth in a failed attempt to arrest his inexorable slide to the floor
Together with my night of karaoke (American Pie naturally) with a bunch of Albanian asylum seekers in Sundsvall you can see that Swedish weekends are somewhat lively
Tonight I’m staying on a farm almost 20 kilometers from my planned destination. This is because I was unable to read a map in conjunction with Air B n B.
As I said. Totally Hapless.
Mist rising in morning sun
Hoping these signs guide me to Norway