It didn’t stop raining today. Okay, it might have eased off for a few minutes once in a long while but, essentially, it rained all day. It was the worst day in Sweden I could recollect. Then Mirinda reminded me of a worse one in December. Even so, today was awful.
The day was made doubly worse because I had to go shopping.
Don’t get me wrong. I don’t mind getting wet. Rain is rain, and you can dry off soon enough. It’s also about wearing the right clothes though, sadly, my raincoat ends mid-thigh which means, while my top half remains dry, the lower half gets drenched.
Still, needs must and I duly set off getting steadily wetter as I headed for the bus stop. Which, oddly, was crowded. Maybe I was earlier than usual. I don’t know but, when the 840 turned up and the four people in the bus shelter (sheltering from the rain so I couldn’t, I might add) boarded the bus which was already looking pretty full, I decided to wait for the 824, due in another 13 minutes.
The one benefit to waiting was I also managed to get the bus shelter to sit in for 13 minutes of precious drying time.
The road the bus stop is on has a great tendency to retain water. I don’t know why. Every time a car or, worse still, truck drives by, a great tidal wave spreads out from its wheels. Fortunately, the bus stop designer clearly took this into consideration when placement was considered. Therefore, while anyone standing outside gets drenched, inside the shelter, things are much drier.
Eventually, the 824 turned up and was almost empty.
Great, I thought, I can sit comfortably on the bus and dry off. I noticed, in frustration, that the seat specifically designed for people with walking sticks was occupied by a young chap who did not need one. I do wonder why the bus people bother with the stickers on the windows if no-one is going to take any notice of them.
Still, I took the seat across the aisle, my trolley stood up by the window. I was happily listening to Nirvana belting out Heart Shaped Box on the driver’s radio, when the drips started. It didn’t take long for me to swap places with the trolley. Then we reached the Trollbäcken roundabout.
I was suddenly engulfed in a waterfall as a dam burst above me. I’m not sure what kind of water storage facility was located above my head but, by the time we pulled into the Trollbäcken Centrum stop, it was empty, and I was wet again.
The kid then rose from the walking stick seat to leave the bus. I was up and out of the puddle forming around me and was in that seat almost before he left it. I felt justified because, firstly I have a walking stick but, secondly and possibly more importantly, I didn’t feel it right to get wet INSIDE a bus.
For me, the rest of the trip into Tyresö was dry and wet free. Sadly I can’t say the same for the poor lady who boarded the bus and sat in my previously vacated seat. As soon as we took a left hand corner, she managed to catch the remaining dregs of the deluge and swiftly swam away.
Nothing much happened during my usual Wednesday shop though the women at the fresh fish counter in ICA have started to recognise me. Big smiles and happy hellos, is always a pleasant way to shop, if you ask me.
Of course, eventually it was time to head back out into the rain (I’d managed to dry out) and get myself home. By the time I reached the house, my trolley and I were once more drenched. Of course, by that stage, it didn’t really matter anymore. I threw my clothes in the dryer and let them tumble around for a bit while I sat in warm and dry clothes.
By the by, I have started reading The Word is Murder by Anthony Horowitz and the following line, describing a funeral director, reminded me of Nicktor: ‘…and a beard that had the look of a failed experiment.‘ Oh, how I laughed.