Plans for Winter

Phew! Like all Swedes, I now have plans for the Winter.

Check out the list:

1. Swimming classes
2. Swedish classes
3. Complete the travelogues
4. Catch up on reading. (Haven't touched a book in months!)
5. Learn cooking
6. Travel
7. Watch movies
8. Read the detailed User manual of my camera (I don't even know how the self-timer works!)
9. Study ADM

Phew!! I don't think I will miss not having a boyfriend!

Infrequent blog?

Wondering why I don't write more often? It took me 1 hour and 20 minutes to finish my post on Brussels. And it was still a 2nd draft.
I am still working on my post on Åland and Dublin. I don't think its going to see the light of day until Winter.
Priorities first! Swimming classes and Swedish classes come first!

Call me Chicken Licken!

2 solid incidents within a span of 6 months that I'm totally not proud of.

A colleague of mine offered to take me along, when she went wind surfing this weekend. She thot I wasn't getting around Stockholm enough and this would be a good diversion. I didnt really know what to expect, so said ok to the offer. Wind surfing sounded like fun!!

So, off I went today, packed with themost envious picnic bag. Water, Fruit juice, yoghurt, grilled chicken, raisin & nuts.. the works.. I also packed a towel, change of clothes and ofcourse the camera. Am very proud of myself now.

At this beautiful lake, in a place called Saltsjöbaden, I watch my colleague and her boyfriend windsurfing and am excited. In a fit of impulsiveness, I decide to do it too!! So, I paid the instructor, learnt a few lessons on the stimulator and then was ready to go! Mind you, I don't know swimming!

I got into a wet suit (one size too big, I think), picked up my board and sail and went into the water. Gosh!! The water was cold! Just my luck that it gets a bit windy and the board starts drifting further and further into the lake even before I had my sail up! So, what do I do? Panic. Yep!! I sure did!!

I refused to put up the sail and screamed that someone come and get me. The colleague was not too kicked by this. She goes 'this is Sweden. You do everything yourself. Get off the board and wade back to the shore!!!!" So much for empathy!!

And that's what I did. Got off the board, dragged my the board and sail back to the shore in neck deep, cold water and refused to try again. I am so ashamed of myself! I did the same thing back in March when I very enthusiastically signed up for Scuba diving even though the organiser thot it was a bad idea. I got all dressed in the gear and went a few meters down. All was well until the instructor thot that my goggles were foggy. He adjusted it. Wrong move. Water entered my eyes now, I panicked and floated back up and refused to go down again!! I must admit that I thought I was getting asthma. It was so difficult for me to breathe slowly under water!

What a lot of waste of money. Not to forget the morale!!

Damn!

Damn!

Damn!! I should so go to swimming classes.

What's with Brussels?

Sometimes, I can't help but think that Stockholm was a luckier choice over Brussels.

I happened to get a chance to go to Brussels in the autumn of 2007. Nothing was easy about the trip. Getting to the city itself was such a pain in the arse. The formalities were amazing.

First, The Visa takes 2 months. (Which involved a flight to Bombay and back just because somebody at the embassy wanted to 'check me out!').

Second, After you get to Brussels, you had to register at the commune. (The clerk at the commune spoke no English but was very patient with my attempt at French).

A week later there was a police check at the apartment in an attempt to make sure that I lived where I claimed to live!

I was supposed to get an ID card soon after. But hey, a month and a half passed and no sign of a card. And then it was time to leave!! I remember, when I left immigration at Brussels, the guy wanted to see my Brussels ID card. I said "well.. my return date came quicker than the ID card did!!"

The city was an experience too!!!

Most of the buildings in Brussels seem to be under perpetual renovation. Every road I took and every street that I went to, had atleast 2 buildings covered in concrete dust, hidden behind hideous canvas facades and annoying scaffoldings.

The people were the best. They would patiently look at you, as if waiting for you to speak, when you are already done asking the question! You thought that the country was tri-lingual, didntcha? So did I!!

There's more - the one that really threw me off. The dogs. They were everywhere! In trains, trams, busses, roads, supermarkets.. everywhere! They were even in shops that sold aromatherapy products, damn it! And some of them were so small, that you were constanly annoying dogowners by stepping on their precious little paws! Gee! What now??! You are supposed to watch out for people's toes and dogs' paws at crowded shops?

Talking of dogs, I have to mention the sidewalks. You would think that they are meant for pedestrians to get to places safely without dodging traffic. Nah!! Not in Brussels. It is a toilet for pet dogs. Learning to dodge dog poop is somehting you will be forced to pick up in Brussels.

And oh, can't miss Thursdays. They are the garbage pick-up days. Pick a main road and walk between 5-6pm on any given Thursday and you will find the entire sidewalk lined with garbage bags left there by the apartment dwellers for the truck to pick up. I don't want to mention the stink or the sight!

And dude! The Mannekin Pis? Seriously. I walked by that statue 3 times and missed it! I stopped the fourth time only because the Japanese tourists caught my attention. And even then, I was pretty sure that they were making a mistake. I kept telling myself that the actual statue had to be somewhere else - a bigger one, in the center of a square or something. Not a tiny mantel piece that is squeezed between a restaurant wall and a narrow street. I must have said 'What? What? What? W-h-a-a-a-t?" several times, shaking my head, before realising that I may have more people watching me than the famous peeing boy!! And what was the iron grill around the statue for?

Talking of peeing statues. Not too far off, sqeezed into the corners of a bar is another statue. This time it is a girl peeing! And she's got a name too! Jeanneke Pis. And she's squatting behind iron-grill bars as well! Who or what are they afraid of?? Who would want to touch these statues? Can someone please explain to me, why the Mannequin Pis is the Belgian National symbol of tourism?

If you thought that that was the only tourism faux paus of Belgium, you are so wrong! Try the centuries old Town Hall. The building is all wrong!! The most obvious thing is that the tower is not in the middle of the building. If that wasn't enough, the spire is not in the middle of the Archway. Dude, how many things can you get wrong in one building?

Don't be daft and try the so called beer museum, for tis no museum at all! It's just a basement cellar where they have strewn a few unwanted wooden ladels and huge steel drums, that was once used to make beer. In one corner, there is a small bar with a funny sign by the beer fountain that says 'Tipping is a not a town in China!' Dude! People are probably gritting their teeth about having to pay to enter this sad cellar and trying to down their irritaion with a beer. And you want a tip by being sarcastic? Nice try.

Still wondering why Brussels doesnt figure as a top tourist destination in Europe?

The commune welcomes me!

Yippee!! I moved to a new place.
I had to ofcourse go to the Skattverket to get the new address updated. And guess what? One evening, I come back home to find this large Manila envelope addressed to me. It said Fam. V (I'm assuming that it means Miss. V) with the new address in the most prettiest calligraphy I'v seen and 2 pretty postal stamps on the top right hand corner. (They forgot to mar its beauty with the postmark. You would think that the commune sent the spies after me to find out that I collected stamps as a hobby!). However, I'm afraid the contents were less exciting. It was a magazine that said 'Välkommen till Köpstråk Sundyberg'. The magazine, I can see was all about the new commune - only drawback was that it was all in Swedish. And the first thing I may have looked up - SFI - failed a mention in the magazine. But atleast I know the address and opening hours of the System Bolaget!

There were totally 3 envelopes from the commune. The map looks interesing. I see a lake, a river and something marked 'naturereservat'. Interesting. Let's just hope it is what it sounds like. A Nature reserve. I'll have to go explore! (Damn! How can a place have all the above and still be called a city?!!!)


Anyways... I think I'm gonna love it here!

Of boyfriends and husbands

Saturday was an interesting day. As I sat in the quaint tea car of the Skansen toy tram and chugged along Djurgarden, sipping coffee and eating Danish pastries on a pleasant, sunny Swedish afternoon, it was but natural that the talk between 2 single gals veer towards boys.
The friend being Swedish, the conversation soon becomes an interesting exchange of cultural insights and the traditional acceptance of male and female roles in a relationship.
While we both agreed that it is always good for the girl to work after marriage as it assures financial independancy, the question is, do we really want to be the compulsory breadwinner as well?

51% of all Swedish marriages fail and it is not even because the men are abusive.

Think about it:
A) if a girl earns enough money to support herself and every household chore and expense is equally shared between the spouses,
B) if the guy thinks that she should pay for her half of all expenses,
C) does not feel the need to look out for her because they are both equal,
the marriage is not a marriage is it? Just seems like 2 roommates with an additional 'chore' of having sex.

No matter how much civilazation progresses, men will always continue to do only that which suits them best. We all talk about equality of sexes in Sweden. It doesnt look like it has showed up completely in the salaries that men & women earn and in the way critiscisms are meted out but hey, equality shows up when you have to let the lady pass thru the doors first, on dates, on your requirement to be the provider of the family, etc. And the best part is, you get 3 months of paternity leave for just sitting at home and watching the Euro Cup!
It doesn't matter which country they live in - Developed, developing or fanatically religious countries - men will always find ways to skew the balance of the society in their favour!

What women want: A man who -
- takes pride in being the provider and yet allows the woman to earn
- loves to look after his woman without being overbearing.

Questions:
(To all women): Any additions?
(To all men): Any applicaitons?

My song

Everyone has their song, here's mine..

I couldn't upload it from Youtube, as for some odd reason it doesnt seem to be compatible to blogspot (really!). But I can compensate for it by giving you a link. It's not the clearest of videos but hey, who cares, listen to the lyrics. That is me folks... its me. That is who I am. It plays in my mind all the time and never feels to cheer me up when I'm low.

Check out the attitude! And what lovely music!! You can't but help admire the way 2 rythms merge into one. And the movie director is the best in the world! It's amazing how he adapts Indian mythology into modern day dramas! And manages to deliver a hit too!! Please, can I marry him?
"Ula varum kanakal kannile
Orayiram vinakal nenjile"

Does anyone know what 'Romanjanam' is. Too bad we don't have a Oxford dictionary for Tamil.

I could yak all day long about the pleasent melody that plays in the background throughout the song. What's the instrument? Piano? Violin? Be warned that youtube is the best place to listen to the music. You can barely hear the background score.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cojN5tCnFYE

"Naan vaanavillai veandinaal
Ore villai koduthu vaanguvaen
Ven maega kootam yaavaiyum
En methai yaakki thoonguvaen"

Sigh!

Tingle of Anticipation

11 days to go for the D-day.. or should we say the B-day?

It's amazing. The last few years have been like this. I feel the tingle of anticipation every day, (what a line, thanks Guiness!), am excited about what I should do and shouldnt, what I must wear, about friends, fun and presents.

But when the day dawns, its.. its just like any other day. A few extra smiles, a few extra hugs, some special food.. But, hey, its just a n-o-r-m-a-l day.. .

This will be my 3rd birthday abroad. One was in the US, one in the UK and now one in Sweden.

As 2008 is special for me in many ways, let me see if I can make this birthday a memorable one! I have an action plan but I can't talk about it now! Tut Tut!

Summer Night City

I first heard about the Midnatts Loppat way back in May when I had first arrived in Stockholm. Wow! A marathon in the middle of the night? Totally intriguing. So I ask V (a friend) if its for real! She said it was and you gotta run for just 1 mile. Sounds like fun! I was gonna run too! She warned me that it was 1 Swedish mile which is equivalent to 10kms. Still ok. Besides, I was told that you have different slots. You could choose between 1-7, 7 implying that you can take 50 minutes to finish the race and 1 being you finish in 25 minutes. Easy ain't it?

And so.. i was on! But... Fate willed otherwise! Well... if you thot that everything was hunky dory after i got here, think again! I had my share of nasty experiences too! For one, the bank. Government banks in Sweden is as hopeless as the ones in India. The bank, refused to give me a VISA debit card. I was stuck with Maestro, which means no online transactions. So, I had to ask V to do the booking for me for the Midnatts loppet. A week later, she told me she did!

I marked my calender for practice time as July-August. And that's when it all happened!! A bunch of Arabs landed in my apartment as friends of the weird houseowner and turned it into a cheapshit Arabic night club where you drink and party until 3am with nothing less than the loudest, distasteful arabic music! And ofcourse you sleep until noon the next morning sprawled on the carpet semi-naked, snoring away. Requests that there are other people in the apartment who lead normal lives and need to sleep and get up on time fell on deaf ears! I needed a change in apartment. And ofcourse, finding one in Stockholm is fun!

And.. it doesn't help when you are swamped with work at your office. Typical scenario - 'SV, your work sucks!'.
'Uh..Probably coz I slept only 2 hours yesterday and I still have a headache!' But, ofcourse, I don't say it aloud! Before long, i have piled up work and am obviously running behind on schedule.

Finally, come Aug 7 and everything is settled. Got a brand new apartment. Good deal. Lesser rent, don't have to walk 10 minutes to bus stop, take a bus to the Metro station and then take the metro to work. I stay 3 stops from workplace and best of all, the flatmates seem to be from civilised countries. Canada and Columbia. Oh well.. as long its not from the Arabic part of the world! But by now, work is piled up to the rooftop and i have fire breathing down my back!
I spend long hours at work and finally get it all sorted out!
Come Aug 12 and am all panicky about running the race without enuff practice!
And that's when V tells me that she didnt book me for the race after all! Quite forgot!

Must say that I was releived. You don't want to get to the finish line when the rest of them have gone home after the race, snacks and revelry.

But, when i went to cheer V (no, she didnt forget to sign herself up!) during the race, i was miserable. There was as usual DJs brought in. Great music, thumping beats, cheeleaders dancing on a stage (completely dressed, minus the pom-poms thanks!). Generally, everyone was pepped up! sigh!

Btw, there was entertainment for the crowd while they waited for the runners to finish. A Samba dance! I watched with total amusement as the ladies dressed in colourful head dresses, shooked their booty! (I'm so going to Brazil, sometime!) Watched the runners come back, piling on refreshements, sighed again and went back home.

Perhaps next year, I'll actually run. Wish me luck! Meanwhile. aye to the Swedes who take physical fitness rather (too) seriously!

Rock me (says Stockholm)

What would a Government do when it receives too much taxes, has too many perfect citizens, hasn't the need to spend too much on developemnt, too afraid to steal public money and has relatively less work to do?

It decides to blow up money by turning a whole city square into a discotheque just because a date in the calender caught its fancy!!

Yes, Stureplan on friday was closed to traffic after 11am and was turned into one huge night club complete with disco lights, music, DJs, seating arrangements and even bouncers! If I wasn't constantly jostled and pushed about in the humongous crowd, I would have probably stared open-mouthed at what the Govt was upto in Sweden.

I must say i was awed. Especially of its theme. It was called Go08. Besides, a website dedicated to the event (http://www.go08.se/), there was even a logo which was constantly displayed at the 'club'. Yeah,, the large, stately building in Stureplan was used as a projector of sorts!

The crowd was a sight!! I had not seen so many people the Metro station all at once!! The lady behind the ticket counter at the metro station was so darn thrilled at the line of youngsters queing up for tickets! She smiled and answered all their questions and smart ones (Must have been nice to have some work at last!! Salary for nothing sucks!)

To back track, I have to tell you about a small picnic I went to, on the first weekend of my arrival in Stockholm. That would be in the month of May. Most of the people were amused that I was getting a piece of Stockholm so soon after my arrival and one of them quipped 'So, you've become an 08er as well! Welcome to the club!!" And that is what the party is all about. 08 is the area code of Stockholm and for some reason, people in the rest of Sweden refer to Stockhomers as 08ers!! Oh whatever!

If I wasn't shit depressed both at the pre-party and at Stureplan, I would have partied until 5am like everyone else did!!

Somebody stop me!

I've been on this shopping splurge that I just can't explain! I just paid a silly amount of money on a bag that I could probably do without for the next 6 months, bought cosmetics that I know is going to lie around in the cupboard unused until i give it away and..

Bought tons of groceries! Wherever am I gonna store it? (It was only when i reached home, i wondered what I needed 3 different types of flavoured yoghurt for. They all have an expiry date for next week!)

More shopping tomorrow!! Clothes this time!

The Blues

Ever been through the re-location blues?

You are all thrilled about the new country that you have moved to. You read about its history, laugh at its quirks, love or hate its residents, be awed like a tourist, smile at the silly signs, puzzle over the strange language, pop-your eyes out over the way people dress, go out every evening... the works.

I remember, how I used to step out of the apartment, look up at the clear, blue sky, smell the pure, unpolluted air and smile. I stop to admire the well-manicured gardens by the road, touch the lovely looking flowers ever so gently, pat the unafraid rabbits and feel the happiness filling your body. You flip over the balloons in the sky, the well-connected public transport, the people friendly traffic system... You float through the days. How lovely it is to live in a place that has the benefits of a huge city and the pleasures of the countryside. You can actually walk without being afraid of the heat and the dust, the pollution, the annoying catcalls and the unruly traffic

And suddenly, something is gone. You long to be back at your homecountry.. wake up to the smell of filter coffee, watch the glow of light streaming thru the kitchen door of the darkened house, listen to Mom cooking in there, eat home-cooked, full-fledged meals, hear parents nagging about your sparse eating habits and irresponsible nature, of Dad standing by the door to say goodbye when you leave to work, of zipping thru traffic chaos in your Scooty...

What is it?

Why am I engulfed by this sense of loss? This unexplainable lonliness?

The heart is crying. You dont' want to stay at work, hate to go home and when you finally do, you want go to your room, shut the door, drop to the floor and die.

Dublin's connection to Chennai

Here are some eerie coincidences between Dublin and Chennai

Right in the heart of the city center, there is a Moore street. People were selling secondhand wares displayed by spreading it out on the platform! Much like our very own Moore market in Chennai. See the pic!

Not very far, to the north, is a St. George's church!

There is also a Gaitey Theatre, buildings called GPO and Customs House, Stella Maris school and also a Mint Street.

Look at Graton Street looking like our Ranganathan street!

Dublin

Living in Europe has its advantages. To start with, it was the first time I had e-checked in. It was a weird feeling to walk into the airport just 30 minutes before departure, go straight to the security check and then into the plane. No standing in line to check-in, no baggage to check in.. It was as if I was taking the Metro from one local station to another rather than flying from one schengan country to another non-schengan one. Come to think of it, it did seem like a Metro travel. No refreshments were offered on board. I wouldn’t even have noticed that I was on a plane had it not been for the pounding headache. Totally amusing was the young guy sitting next to me who raised the eyebrows of a passing stewardness hwen she noticed that he was leafing through a semi-porn magazine. Whatever happened to discretion?
The return flight was just as hassle-free. I was the only one checking-in at the counter! Finished in a jiffy.

Have you ever been to a foreign country/city but felt like you had never left your home country? That’s what I felt when I landed in Dublin. I could have been in Chennai. If you’d travel the stretch from Madras Central (from the southern railway building) to Mountroad (upto LIC building) via the Island Grounds, you’d get the same feeling if you’d be in O’Connell street, except that the latter now has a swanky new, stainless steel Millenium tower. But otherwise, the street is dotted with numerous statues just like the way the Marina Beach road is.
“So, how do you find our city” asked a friendly Irishman striking up a conversation in a bus. (Much like the way an Indian native would ask a foreigner.)
“Well… this could be any city in England”. I answered. It’s true. The city could do with better maintenance, is crowded, lots of tourists, plenty of foreign residents and many Georgian buildings
“I guess we have a lot of their influence here”. Was his jolly retort.
Atleast he wasn’t unhappy about it!!

It’s amazing how the British trashed cities they colonised in the same, uniform manner; like they had a set agenda - If there is a large river that runs through the city – pollute it; (Thames, Liffey and Cooum), if people can be influenced, teach them to be uncivic; If you can manage to walk between 2 buildings, call it a street; – the list can go on.. The only exception they made to the rule seems to be Australia.

Must say that the Irish are quite friendly. I had absolutely everyone willing to help without even asking for it. Be it the middle-aged, well-dressed gentleman in the airplane who got up from his seat, helped me with the luggage and politely showed me to my seat, or the friendly customer service guy at the airport who told me where to take the bus from the airport into the city, gave me a map, drew the route from the bus stop to my hostel and wished me a happy stay. I even had over-enthusiastic ticket sellers and bus drivers who ‘namaste’d me. In Dublin, if you can’t read a map even if it clearly shows the street names and has a blue ink mark showing which way to walk, fret not – help is at hand. I turned into Parnell street, parked the suitcase and kept looking for a street sign that would say Great Georges Street, only to be greeted by an Irish man asking if I was having trouble finding my way. I told him the street name and he actually walked me to the street and wished me a good stay. Now, you would think that I would have been flattered by all the attention. But no. A mix of Swedish self-help culture and Indian don’t-trust-over-friendly-strangers culture made me very uncomfortable of all the attention. Sad, very sad. Btw, the Irish are a happy lot. I wonder if it has anything to with the numerous pubs in the city some of them dating back several decades. If I hadn’t read it in a tourist book that Irish people buy drinks for strangers more than any other people in the world, I would have been totally offended by the number of friendly offers I got! Nothing lecherous or anything, just plain statements like ‘My friends and I are meeting for drinks. You are welcome to join us!’ And this from a guy who’s seated in a bus next to you, who starts the conversation by saying how lucky I was that the driver was willing to wait till I got the exact change! That’s something you wanna know, if you are travelling to Ireland. You have to tender exact change to get a bus ticket. If god forbid, you have no change at all, then they might give you a slip that says how much refund you are due and you have to go to the bus station to get it!! But don’t bother to risk it. Most drivers are content to allow you to search your pockets, then bother with that slip!
And yes, I forgot to mention that the friendly stranger who showed me the way to the street where my hostel was located, said ‘Why don’t you take my number and if you should have problems, feel free to call!!’ I had to politely decline this magnamous offer! I’m such narrow-minded, suspicious Indian!

It was the first time I stayed at a hostel. I met a Dutch mother and daughter duo, who were travelling by themselves. The hostel reminded me of my school back in Chennai. The building was old Victorian style. The facilities were quite basic - just a bed and a common bathroom but was clean. Must admit that I couldn’t stay in it for more than one night. Too dark, too basic and just too claustrophobic. Had to move. From hostel, to a star hotel (paid by the company) just outside of the city, it was such a change.

Day 1 was a city tour on the Hop on bus tour.
The best way to travel in Dublin is the Hop-on and Hop-off tour. They cover most of the famous spots with a good commentary. And ofcourse the added advantage of getting off and getting on whenever you want. And yes, the bus drivers don’t care if you get into the red one or the yellow one. The former has a live commentator and the latter, a recorded commentary. The 2 highlights of the tour are the Molly Malone statue and the unavoidable Guiness Factory. I’m not a beer drinker and hence couldn’t be bothered with the factory. But by the end of the day when the bus driver insisted that it was the only place that was open until 7pm and that I shouldn’t miss it, I gave in. Five floors of well put together museum. Perhaps a beer connesiur would have like the 2nd floor, which explained the making of the McGuiness brew. All I did was pick up some burnt barley on display that was characteristic of the so called flavour. My favourite was the 5th floor, where they had an impressive display of the McGuiness advertisements over the years. Totally cool. Then ofcourse, I shocked the hell out of bartenders at the sky bar on the top floor when I asked for fruit juice instead of the dark brown beer which everyone seemed to love. Fanta was all that I got and I sat sipping it in front of one of the many glass walls of the bar. Oh ya, forgot to mention, the walls of the bar are all glass and you get a view of the entire city from there. It isn’t one of the prettiest scenes I’ve seen. From where I looked, all I could see was small, drab, grey buildings, with very little green anywhere.

Day 2 was a trip to the Wicklow Mountains and Glendoulough Monastery.
No trip to the Dublin can be called complete without going to the famed Wicklow mountains Glendoulough Monastery. Both these places aren’t too far away from the city and would be a sin to miss it - 45 minutes past the suburb of posh Donluery (owning a property here is much like owning a bungalow on the ECR in Chennai. The mountains are absolutely beautiful and it was toally amusing when the tour bus driver gave us warm brandy to drink from the top of the mountain. It never ceases to amaze me that just a few kilometres away from a rather ungreen city that there is such profound natural beauty.

Dublin ofcourse has its disadvanatages. For some strange reason, the best tours are not available during weekends. You would have thought otherwise where there would extra schedules arranged for weekends when most people travel. Either locally or as extended weekends by outsiders. But no – logic goes out the window here.
At the end of the day, I felt like I missed more than I had seen.
- The pub crawl tour
- The ghost tour
- The Newgrange tour.
- A show at the Odeon.

Had I not had the extra annoying task of applying for a Visa, I probably would have gone back to Dublin. But then, I do know that no country or city can be covered over one weekend.

Crazy World!

More pictures..

House full show!

Nice socks!

Oooooh! My condolences guys..! She's out of reach!

Nice skirt!

Sold out!

What I hate about Gays

Damn!! Look at them!! They all look so delicious!! Every single one of them! And we are not going to get them!

And not to forget that most of them have excellent taste and fashion acumen. Damn!

Why do men have to get all the pretty women and the pretty men?

Europride 08

Here's a Video for those of you who missed the fun!

Btw, for those of you who do not know, hiring trucks for parades is quite a normal thing to do in Sweden. They do it even when students graduate when all the students jump on the truck and go singing thru the streets!

I'm amazed at how seriously they took this Parade. Look at all the effort!

Europride 2008

Here are some fun moments I caught on camera at the EuroPride 08. This is the first parade that I have been to and boy! was it an experience!

For information on what it is, . http://www.europride.com/

Prize winners:
Individual performance: Big guy in black dress
Group performance : The 2nd last picture.

Btw folks, there was a samba group which was great as well but unfortunately, when I clicked the pciture, most of it was marred by umbrellas. Oh, i didnt tell you? This parade happened amidst relentless rain that lasted all day long! If it is summer, nothing's gonna get into the way of a Swede's idea of fun! They brought out their umbrellas and watched the parade! And check out the matching umbrellas of the paraders!! Go, go!