About a month ago, I started organising our excess baggage to head home ahead of us. It’s all our winter clothes. It was transported to Sweden in October, and now it’s going back. I’ve already mentioned the annoying post Brexit paperwork and fuss. Well, tomorrow it gets picked up and sent upon its way. And hopefully I have everything in order.
The worst thing will be if the UK customs believe we have to pay some sort of duty on it all. Given we bought it all in the UK (it’s all old clothes) we shouldn’t be charged again, but you never know. If this is the case, I am willingly going to donate the lot to them.
In the meanwhilst, I have the labels and I know where to stick them. So far so good.
Not that that consumed my entire day. I had to go into Tyresö Centrum for some last minute shopping. And, of course, to say goodbye to Norah at Espresso House.
I had a surprise at the Systembolaget. It was quite crowded so, at the checkout, I didn’t engage in any unnecessary chat, which means I could conduct things in Swedish. Very limited Swedish it’s true but, still.
Anyway, after paying, the guy on the check out said “Have a lovely day.” Which prompted me to say “How did you know I speak English?” To which he replied “You’re the only Australian that comes in here. And I’ve served you before.“
Sadly, I didn’t get to see the blonde woman at the fish counter but, at least I did see Norah. She very generously gave me a discounted drink and sadly waved me goodbye as I left. I asked her to say goodbye to Fanny for me.
Mirinda calls these interactions micro relationships. And I rather like them. So much easier than full on relationships. Small talk, having a laugh and a joke. All in a short time. Brilliant. I’ll miss my Tyresö micro relationships, it’s true but, of course, I’m returning to my Farnham ones. And any new ones I find along the way.
There was a bit of a first today, in that I fell off the bus.
I was standing at the door waiting to get off. The doors opened and I lifted my trolley down then I started to step down. Then the doors started to close. On me. I fell over, fortunately not under the bus.
I yelled out WTF in full as I struggled to get up off the ground. My trolley had fallen over as well and spilled a few things on the footpath.
Suddenly, three young women leapt from the bus, one extending an arm to help me up. The three all had strollers and babies and were concerned for my well being. I was surprised given the fact that, in general, the Swedish don’t seem to give any preference to the old and infirm. One sight of my walking stick and, usually, they totally ignore me. I thanked these lovely women profusely.
Finally, the bus driver appeared and asked me, in Swedish, if I was okay.
And, remarkably, I was. There was nothing. No graze, no bruises. Apart from my dignity, nothing was hurt.
I’m not used to this kind of non-accident. Normally, when I fall over, there’s gallons of blood spilled and I have scars that remain, sometimes, forever. But not this time.
I gave my thanks to all father Odin and made my slow and sweaty way home.
It was another scorcher today, possibly the scorchiest so far. We spent most of the day in and around the house trying to find some cool and failing miserably. There’s supposed to be a cool change tomorrow. That will be very welcome.
And so, in this week of last times, I bid farewell to Tyresö Centrum. The first shopping centre I’ve actually enjoyed going to.