Where the angels speak English with an Australian accent

Following the successful late night loud party across the road, in the week, their neighbours decided to give it a go last night. It was a party in a marquee on the front lawn which started sometime in the evening and ended at around 3am as the sun started to make an appearance. The sound system was very good, loud and clear.

Still, it didn’t keep me awake as much as the one in the week. I think it was the quality of the sound and music.

The party ended as the heavens opened up and, as if the clouds had had enough of the noise, poured cold water on the whole event.

The rain came and went all day. We were watching this anxiously as we had a big night rapidly approaching at the Notholmen island cafe. We were due to attend our first live music event for over a year. And, given the weather had been beautiful the last few days, we were fools to expect anything but rain.

And rain we had. Torrential rain in fact. As we drove to the island, it was like Max was heading through a waterfall. However, a few hours before that, Mirinda suddenly stood up from her computer and announced that we were going for fika at Norrbys’. And who was I to argue with that?

I had carrot cake, which is always lovely at Norrby’s. I then got to compare with the carrot cake at the island cafe. And, it’s a close call, but I think I prefer the one on the island. Though I’m not 100% sure so will probably have to try again.

As well as the taking of fika, Mirinda went for a long walk to a lake while I built her a database. Using FileMaker Pro, I managed to create something that contains all her research. Hopefully it’ll be better to use than the spreadsheet she has been using.

But then, the event we’d been waiting for, for over a year, an evening being entertained by Aron Blom. And not just us either. A lot of people were ready to be entertained along with us. The café regularly has music events on the island once the weather improves, rain notwithstanding. Of course, last year it was impossible, so tonight was the first one since summer 2019. The organisers were not going to let a little thing like rain put them off.

Most of us were in the big white marquee with one side rolled up while Aron and his unnamed guitar strumming mate, were on a small stage in front of us. The speakers were appropriately swathed in plastic. A small group, centred around a man on a mobility scooter, were seated behind the marque under umbrellas. They wouldn’t have seen very much, but I’m sure they enjoyed the music.

The woman sitting on the yellow chair unexpectedly provided us with some pre-show entertainment. Everyone was happily eating their pre-show meals when she decided she needed to go to the loo. She stood up, hand on the back of her chair then fell over, sending the chair flying and falling in front of our table.

Mirinda was immediately up and checking on her. I was in reach and took hold of her arm in order to prevent her toppling our table on top of her.

I didn’t hear her but, according to Mirinda, she sounded drunk. Mirinda asked her if she was alright. The woman took a long while to focus on her then slowly nodded and gave a slurred ‘yes’. We figured she must have thought Mirinda was an angel and was astounded that angels speak English.

Eventually, we managed to get her to her feet and she staggered off towards the toilet. Just as she reached the slope up to the wooden terracing, she fell over again in that rolly poly drunk way that heavy drinkers know only too well.

The odd thing was how most people in the marquee didn’t seem to take a blind bit of notice. There was the woman sitting to her right who was slightly inconvenienced by the toppling chair but, otherwise, there was not a lot of fuss.

Even the woman’s friend. She didn’t seem to care at all. We figured that this was a regular occurrence and the sober friend wasn’t happy that it was about to ruin her night. Still, eventually she packed her stuff up and followed. And they never returned.

I bet she wasn’t happy. The sober one I mean. Imagine sitting in a tent, the rain belting down, eating a delicious plate of food and drinking a glass of wine and waiting for Aron Blom to start and your mate decides to get totally inebriated, forcing you to leave. I felt really sorry for her.

Anyway, I guess she could have watched the live stream that the cafe did on Instagram. Evelyn was filming it, ably kept dry by an umbrella wielding assistant.

Pity about the extraneous head but, still, I think it’s a nice photo of Evelyn.

But what about Aron Blom? Well, he was excellent. A young (to us anyway), entertaining singer/songwriter with a florid wardrobe and a great line in chat. At least we think he has a great line in chat. He spoke Swedish, obviously, so we couldn’t understand very much – I recognised a few random words, but that was it for me. Mirinda fared slightly better.

I remember Hannah Scott saying, in the first Girls and Guitars we went to that she wasn’t very good at the chat between songs. And she’d have to work on it. Which, I have to say, having seen her many times, she has mastered. And, I think, Aron is pretty good at, as well.

He’s also very good at singing and entertained all of us for around two hours (with a suitable break in the middle).

There was more entertainment during the half time break. A man sitting behind us fell off his chair. What, we thought, not another drunk! But, no, the cushion under him slipped and he went with it. Or so his wife told us as she talked to Mirinda.

This lady wanted to go to the loo but didn’t want to get wet. Mirinda offered her the umbrella she had thought to bring, but the lady was hesitant. I’m not sure what she thought was going to happen to the umbrella. Eventually she said she’d borrow the umbrella if Mirinda told her where we were from.

Thus entailed the usual long conversation about us being Australian, our trip last October with the girls, living in the UK, and so on and so forth…the usual spiel. A little later, having been to the loo, the woman started telling Mirinda about her last trip to America when she visited the UFO museum near Roswell. (In delightful Swedish fashion, she pronounced it ‘oofo’ rather than spell it out.)

Her husband, originally from California, didn’t seem to share his wife’s enthusiasm for the actual existence of the aliens. The wife, however, was absolutely convinced they were real.

As good as the first half, the second started and everyone once more took their seats. And, as Aron indicated, the weather had improved immeasurably. The sun was out, the clouds had drifted off, the rain was gone. And so it remained for the rest of the night.

All in all, a fantastic day and night, so long in the waiting.

In the interests of fairness, here’s Aron’s mate. I have no idea what his name is. I’ve written to Aron on Twitter so maybe I’ll find out. Soon.

Anyway, as I said, it was a long time in the waiting but, it felt so good going to a live concert again. Long may it continue.

This entry was posted in Concerts, Gary's Posts, Sweden 2021. Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to Where the angels speak English with an Australian accent

  1. Pingback: The Glimra Girls from Gotland | The House Husband - Sweden

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