I heard on the radio this morning that officials in Sydney had decided that the annual fireworks would be scaled down from twelve to seven minutes. There were also lots of restrictions in place for groups or people around the harbour or just entering the Sydney CBD. What I don’t understand is how five minutes could make any difference to a virus.
Meanwhile, here on the outskirts of Stockholm, the fireworks started at around 6pm and finished at midnight. We had an almost continuous run of bangs and wallops and sparkling crackles. I’ve never experienced the like.
Poor Emma was very upset. She didn’t like any of it. She refused to join Mirinda upstairs and, instead, watched me clean the kitchen after dinner. When I went to bed, she joined us but was restless.
When midnight came around, it was like all of Odin’s hordes had been released from Valhalla to visit hell on earth. And our little house was in the centre of it all. It was an interesting exclamation mark to the day.
Finally, Emma settled down, and we could all sleep. Freya slept through it all. She might be small, but she’s fearless when it comes to fireworks.
The day had been lovely. Having shopped at Tyresö Centrum, I joined the family as we all climbed into Max and headed for the port town of Nynäshamns. It’s a town where the ugly buildings of the 20th century outnumber any attractive earlier architecture. Here’s two of the pretty ones.
In saying the above, the town did have a lot of pluses. It’s on the Baltic which means there’s a lot of ship activity in the harbour – boats to Gotland and Gdańsk and room for squillions of pleasure craft. A sizeable Espresso House which was warm, comfortable and welcoming to the girls. As well as us.
This was in direct contrast to the big, beacon of a church where dogs are far from welcome. In fact, the big, looming pink building is marked by only one sign. It states, emphatically, that dogs are not welcome.
Actually, that is not strictly true. There is another sign. A big chi ro above the back door which, as we all know, indicates that a Greek scholar has marked the church as particularly relevant.
Not that it was open to us either. Though it was supposed to be. I guess god was off celebrating new year’s early. Possibly conjuring up something even more horrific for humanity during 2021, given how much fun he had this year.
We walked around the high street, noticing how busy the System was. This was identical to the action in the System at Tyresö earlier where swarms of customers were stocking up in order to welcome in the new year…or bid farewell to the horror of 2020.
Back at the car, we headed down to the sea at Lövhagen, where, in the last rays of the sun, we tried to make out the edge of Gotland.
Actually, you can’t see Gotland from here. It’s three hours south by ferry. And it’s a ferry we want to take. One day.
Back at home we had a wonderful surprise waiting for us in our letter box. The timing couldn’t have been better.
At this point, they can take as long as they like.