Tales of a clueless traveller.

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

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Hoping these signs guide me to Norway

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