Happy early Halloween

We carved our "pumpa" (pronounce that like "poom-pah") tonight, and I just wanted to show-off the results before bed. Feeling much better today, headache-wise, plus got my 10-page final paper submitted this afternoon, which feels pretty good as well.

On a side note, we're invited to a Halloween party on Saturday, and the theme is "film/movies." Anyone have a simple costume suggestion that Scott and I could pull off? Scott wanted to be McLovin, but his hair is just too long.

Unfortunately we burnt our attempt at roasted pumpkin seeds, but the pumpkin's still happy.

Learning about Swedish health care, the hard way

I don't have the best luck when it comes to random injuries. That list would include breaking my hand on a doorknob, chipping my tooth on a fork, getting run over by an electric wheelchair, and probably a few more stupid incidents that my friends and family could help fill-in. I was a key player in chipping my sister's front tooth with my rear when I was about 10. Last summer, I managed to take out a bird, mid-flight, with my tee shot, unceremoniously joining the ranks of Rob Lowe. The list goes on. Last week, my misfortune was the influenza vaccine.

This all started when I found out that it would cost about $300 per appointment to continue my allergy injections here in Stockholm, which I need every two weeks to build up my tolerance. Since that plan was squashed by 10 a.m. on Thursday morning, I decided to check off another to-do item and visit the influenza vaccination clinic across the hall. I get a flu shot every year without much trouble, so in no way did I consider the possibility of having a bad reaction. But from the way my head was starting to hurt by the time I arrived home, it was clear that I should have.

I managed to fall asleep on Thursday night (thanks, Tylenol PM), but the headache was even worse when I woke up, and things continued to go downhill from there. After 30 hours of constant pain, and six hours of regular vomiting, Scott's mom called and told me of her similar experience, which was all the encouragement it took to convince me to stagger down the hill to the emergency room, which is only a few blocks from our apartment.

We paid a flat fee of about $40, and were soon thereafter admitted. The Swedish doctors I've seen have been fabulous. Specifically, they take their time to talk, which I've found to be a nice difference from being rushed through the U.S. appointment book. After doing blood tests and checking my heart, lungs, reflexes, balance and coordination (where I managed to stick my finger in my eye in an attempt to touch my nose with my eyes closed), they determined that the problem was all in my head, literally. Although the doctors were fairly certain the severe headache was from the vaccination, they weren't sure how to explain the vomiting, so I was kept overnight, given an IV and scheduled for a CAT scan in the morning. The IV provided nearly immediate relief from the migraine-times-10 throbbing in my head, and allowed me to keep some food down, too. And I should mention, Swedish nurses were not only wonderfully kind, but also great with needles. My tiny veins very much appreciated their handiwork.

Things were going well until I had to use the bathroom, when the pressure in my vein took over and started to fill my IV tube with blood. It really isn't a problem, except it made me quite dizzy. I've had a few similar reactions while giving blood, but I think the painkillers I was on only added to the problem. The first time this happened, the nurse came and took care of the problem. The second time - yes, there was a second time - I wasn't so lucky, and fainted while rounding a corner during my six-foot walk back to the bed. I managed to crash my IV cart into the wall, run shoulder first into a cabinet, hit my knees on the ground and somehow, thankfully, only smashed my chin on the ground. I still have my teeth intact, so despite a few additional bruises, it could certainly be worse. Plus, the crash was even more reason to have the scheduled CAT scan on Saturday.

The worst part was actually just waiting around in the room itself. Swedish hospitals apparently do not have TVs in the patient rooms. Plus, I was stuck in a four-person room with the woman who snored, and a woman who made sporadic sleep-noises. But I can't really complain, since they both hit their emergency call buttons when I crashed my cart. Speaking as someone who had a terrible headache though, I will complain about the woman who joined our room around 8 a.m. (visiting hours don't start until 1 p.m.), and had a posse of no fewer than five people, all constantly talking at once. Scott took great care of me, and brought me a fresh shirt, plenty of books, as well as his iPod and such to keep me amused. Unfortunately he forgot to include the earplugs though, so I was very thankful for the painkillers I was given on Saturday to help with the lingering headache. The Chatty Cathys across from my bed continued all day, which was longer than necessary because the Friday doctor had forgotten to schedule me for the CAT scan. When it was finally my turn to be carted downstairs, roller-bed style, it was practically a one-hour wait in the hallway, a three-minute scan, and then one-hour wait for the ride back. Really, I could've easliy pushed my own bed back upstairs, but not waiting in the queue would have been very un-Swedish of me.

Twenty-four hours and four meals later (including some Swedish meatballs), the Saturday doctor stopped by to tell us that my CAT scan results were normal, and I was given the okay to go. If the headache isn't gone in one week, she said, then I should come back in. Seriously, a week?!

Now, with any luck, we're hoping there isn't another medical bill on the way. Based on what we know of the Swedish health system, we're fairly sure there won't be another bill, but it just seems too good to be true.

Sunrise, Sunset

It's 4:45 in the afternoon. I looked out the window and realized that it's already pitch black outside. I guess the sun set at 4:07 today. Within a week or two our days will be shorter than the shortest day of the year in Minneapolis, and we will continue to lose a few minutes each day until late December.

The change in the amount of sunlight has fascinated me so far. We moved here when the days were getting longer, we stayed up late on the longest day of the year, and we've watched the sun steadily disappear since then. It's been fun, and it's been a wonderful compliment to the change in seasons that is already fun to watch.

I just hope that I'm still this excited about the lack of light when I haven't seen the sun in three months.

The housing situation in Sweden - Part III

On to the third installment of my three-part blog series. Today's lecture will cover subletting an apartment in Sweden, and then wrap up the three-day series by looking at some of the social benefits that Swedes get to enjoy thanks to the unheard of number of housing rules.

First rule of subletting: An apartment owner may not sublet his or her apartment for more than six months, and the subletting of an apartment must be approved by the owner's association. Contracts over six months are only approved when the apartment owner moves abroad with the intention to move back into the apartment sometime within the next three years.

For the most part, the first rule is usually ignored, but it is important as we will see shortly.

Second rule of subletting: An apartment owner may not charge more than 10% above the association fee, 20% if the apartment is even partially furnished. A typical association fee here in Stockholm is between $400 and $600 a month, while interest on loans is typically two to three times those amounts. So if you want to sublet your place and you do not own the apartment, you are required by law to take a loss as there is no way to cover your monthly payments.

I think it is fair to say that the second rule of subletting is ignored 100% of the time. In fact, as the supply of rental units is far less than the quantity of apartments on the market, apartment owners are able to charge enough to cover the association fee, their mortgage and then still make a nice profit. When somebody needs a place to live, they really don't have any option but to pay for whatever is available.

It gets interesting when the two rules are combined. If you rent an apartment for more than six months at a rate higher than 10% (or 20%) above the the association fee, and have a rental contract to prove how much you pay each month, you can sue the apartment owner for overcharging you. The contract is all the proof the court needs. Nobody will rent their place without a contract, so it's a risk the owner takes when they choose to sublet. That's the one item in the whole story that actually puts some power in the hands of the renter. I can't imagine what type of person would actually take the owner to court, but it seems like everybody in Sweden knows one person who has been that jerk.

I've done my best to paint a picture of a pretty difficult housing market for a foreigner to enter. Difficult to buy, even more difficult to find a decent place to rent. So why doesn't Sweden do something? It seems like everybody knows there's a problem, but there's also something about Swedes that they just like to go with the flow. I'm guessing the homeowners like the 10% annual increase in their property values, and like homeowners in the US were just a few years ago, they are in denial that there could be any possibility of a bubble. The government has also decided to offer incentives for new developments instead of trying to promote new rental units.

If you look at the system from the flip side, you see that there are some social benefits that come out of all of this. The first is that to date, most owners have accumulated a large amount of equity in their apartments. The next is that almost everybody has a vested interest in their apartment. You know that everybody in your apartment building wants to keep the building nice, that way the value of their apartment doesn't drop. Every building in the city is like this, so if you look around Stockholm, you won't find any run-down housing, disinterested landlords or anything even close to a slum.

In the end, it's a tough system to enter, but you're in good shape once you get past the subletting and the initial barriers to buying or renting first-hand. Maybe that's what the government actually has in mind, everything is designed to protect the Swedes that are in the system, and creates difficulties for new entrants, who are probably foreigners that the Swedish government has no reason to serve anyway. Seems pretty similar to other obstacles Miranda and I have faced getting set up with IDs and the like. While I wish there were better options for me personally, I also like living in such a clean country, where rough areas of town seem nonexistent, and nothing is run down or dirty. I guess I have to give the Swedish rules a lot of credit for keeping the Swedish cities looking so nice.

It's been difficult for Miranda and me to figure out what route to take as 18 more months is a very short horizon to buy, but finding an apartment for such a period is proving to be just as tough. We have decided to continue searching for an apartment to rent, and in the time since I started this draft five days ago, we actually got a decent lead on a place up in Uppsala. I'm crossing my fingers for this one, and crossing the fingers on my other hand for an even better place that I'm still waiting to hear from. This is the first time in months that we've even found ads that meet our requirements, and the first time ever that somebody has responded to one of my inquiries. We'll keep you posted as we learn more. Until then, wish us luck!

The housing situation in Sweden - Part II

Picking up where we left off, we're on to buying a home in Sweden.

To begin, the seller hires a broker, aka a realtor. The buyer does not hire a broker, but the seller's broker is supposed to look out for the best interest of both the buyer and seller. Seems like an impossible task, but I guess you just have to accept it.

Broker fees are typically arranged as either a small fixed fee, or a very small percentage up to a certain level, such as the asking price plus 5%. If the sale price exceeds the determined level, the broker gets a large percentage of the excess. I've even heard 40% and 50% thrown out there as potential broker fees. Once again, with a fee structure in place that offers a huge incentive for the broker to drive up the price, I don't understand how that same person could be looking out for the best interest of the buyer.

There really isn't much work involved for the broker. The apartment is staged weeks before it goes on the market, a fancy website is put together and the apartment is shown online for a few weeks. Private showings are very rare. After a few weeks of online advertising there will be two open houses. The first is on a weeknight, the second is on the following weekend. Both showings will last between thirty and sixty minutes, and everybody that is interested in buying, and some gawkers, will show up during this period. The potential buyers get a whirlwind tour of the apartment, and if they like the place, they leave their name with the broker.

Either the same night of the second showing, or the following day, the broker will contact each of the interested buyers. The broker solicits a bid from each, then basically auctions the property to the highest bidder. I guess it's a fairly fast process carried out by texting back and forth. As I said in my previous post, the market has slowed, but apartments selling for 10% more than the asking price is still common, and 20% above the asking price is not unheard of in certain areas of Stockholm. The bidding period ends within a day, and the house is sold within a week. I'd hate to know how much of a markup is common when it's a "seller's market."

This auction-like system really drives prices up, and due to the lack of rental options, there is always a buyer. Consequently, many Swedes take out interest-only loans for at least part of their mortgage, and there is no incentive to build equity as it is assumed the property values will always appreciate. When loans are amortized, they typically ask for 1% of principal a year. Think about that, a 100 year mortgage. Pretty risky if you ask me, but in a system where the buyer has absolutely no power, prices may never drop, even in a "buyer's market."

For a Swede, this is just the way things are. Most Swedes also have all the time in the world to wait for the perfect apartment, or wait for the best deal. People that move to Sweden aren't so lucky. The world of second-hand rental contracts is pretty goofy here, and although we got lucky, most sublet units are also fairly over-priced. Newcomers to Sweden will buy as soon as possible, just to get out of their horrible second-hand contract. As promised, I'll get back to that tomorrow. Until then, wish me luck on my next pass through the apartment rental websites.

The housing situation in Sweden - Part I

I just typed a full post, one of my longer ones and more like an essay than a blog post, then accidentally deleted all the text. Unlucky for you, it's still fresh in my mind, so here goes.

What you are about to read is my understanding of the housing situation here in Sweden. It's a textbook example from Microeconomics 101, full of supply, demand and government regulation creating ineffieciencies in the market. Obviously it has captured my full attention. On top of that, it's so different from the U.S. that I couldn't help but want to understand how and why everything works the way it does. Now that I know what I know, I can't help but share, just because everything is so different from the U.S.

To begin, Miranda and I are still renting from my coworker. The housing market in Sweden hasn't fallen like it has back home, but it just started to slow down this summer. My coworker is more than happy to continue renting to us until it becomes a seller's market again, and we're pretty happy just to have a place. Ultimately we would like something larger than a 440 square foot studio, but at the moment we'll take what we can get. Miranda and I have also decided that we'd like to live up in Uppsala, 40 minutes north by train, where she goes to school. We actually decided that back in June, and have been keeping our eyes open for apartments ever since. As of now we still haven't found anything.

For the most part, city housing in Sweden is made up of apartments, and just to get it clear, an apartment in Sweden is the same as a condominium in the U.S. There are some apartments available to rent, but the Social Democrats, the controlling political party for the majority of the last 75 years, have passed a lot of laws to protect the renter, which in the end has driven landlords away. The main law is that no person can make a significant profit through property rentals, and that the rental price must also be fair to the renter, with the fair price being monitored and approved by the city government. In that case, why would a landlord want to maintain a property without making a profit? Consequently, most rental units are owned by the municipality, and many are being privatized and sold as condos as most towns would rather focus their energy on more typical city responsibilities, like schools and hospitals.

All of this has lead to a tremendous shortage in rental units. Most cities have a cuing system, and once you get to the top of the list you get first choice of the next available unit. In Stockholm it takes about 4-5 years from the day you enter the cue to the day you get offered an apartment. Due to the price restrictions the rent is very cheap, so apartment turnover is very low, which doesn't help the situation at all.

You would think that finding an apartment in Uppsala would be easier, considering there's a university with 40,000 students, but apparently Swedish universities aren't allowed to have their own housing, so the school depends on the city and private industry to provide housing. As stated above, there isn't much direct incentive for either the city or private industry to take on this role. Most housing that is provided is single-occupant, 200 sq. ft, shared bathroom, etc. Typical student room, and not something that would really work for Miranda and me. Anything larger takes about three years on a waiting list to receive, or perfect timing to find. At the moment our waiting list days are pretty low, and I guess our timing has been less than perfect.

So that's the renting situation. Many newcomers to Sweden tend to sublet for a very short period, and after learning just how screwed up the housing options are, opt for buying. There are some pretty goofy rules around subletting, so people buy mostly because of the lack of alternatives. This has been enough for today, so we'll touch on buying tomorrow, and subletting on day three. Trust me, we haven't even touched on the fun stuff yet.

My first real hamburger in Sweden

My coworkers and I went bowling on Thursday night, and since most people know that the average person bowls better with a beer in his or her belly, we decided to go out for dinner and a drink first. One person in the group really wanted a hamburger, so we ended up at O'Leary's Sports Bar. Step into O'Leary's and you instantly feel like you're back in a normal U.S. establishment...every inch of the walls was covered in Boston Red Sox and Boston Celtics paraphernalia. The waitresses were casually dressed in jeans and t-shirt jerseys with some O'Leary's slogan written in English on the backs. There were dart boards in the back, and there were as many TVs as one could hope for at a decent sports bar. They also had Sam Adams on tap, which was nice for a change.

The menu was full of the American basics. Hot wings, mozzarella sticks, a nice list of hamburgers and all the other usuals which I just glanced over. I couldn't have asked for anything more. I've had hamburgers here in Sweden, but fast food burgers really don't count. We also tried to get hamburgers at a Scottish pub about a month after we moved here, but were unfortunately served open-faced hamburgers. Disappointing if you ask me. If you don't get the top half of the bun, is it even a hamburger? Seems more like a ground beef patty served on a pile of bread and lettuce in my opinion.

The atmosphere, the Sam Adams and the hot jalapeno burger were great. A near-perfect reminder of home. I have to say near-perfect because there were just a few things that, once noticed, were a persistent reminder that yes, I was still in Sweden.

First, I mentioned to my coworkers that it was nice to finally eat a good burger in an American sports bar. "American? I thought this place was Irish!?" Based on my description so far, would any of you readers have called this an Irish joint? I didn't think so. The only thing Irish about this bar was the name.

Then there was the fact that every TV was tuned in to the Norway vs. Sweden women's handball game. I really like hand ball. Fast paced, lot of contact, not too high scoring, really goofy moves by the goalies on penalty shots. Very fun to watch. The fact that this particular game had 10 girls that look like extra blonde Mirandas didn't hurt anything. That aside, handball in a sports bar? That would be like going to a sports bar in the U.S. and having every TV tuned in to curling or field hockey. It was just out of place.

Lastly, everybody ordered hamburgers. I was excited. Swedes don't eat hamburgers that often. As I said before, I felt at home. As we started eating, only one other person picked up her burger, and she probably did that because I already had a tight hold on mine. The other three proceeded to cut into their burgers with a knife and a fork. That's the usual here, but it was way too civilized.

Conclusion: O'Leary's did their best to take me home, and if they had baseball, football or basketball, they might have tricked me, but in the end it's still Swedish to the core.

Better late than never? I hope so.

Classes, reading assignments, a wonderful guest and a mini-vacation have provided enough distractions to keep me away from blogging, and also from taking the time to say, Happy Belated Birthday, Mom!

Here's a random tip in case you know anyone who loves pickles and also deserves some flowers: the Bachman's seasonal flowers my mom received from us included a strong scent of dill. Unfortunately my mom isn't one of those people who loves the pickle frangrance, but at least the bouquet was pretty.

Celebrating from the other side of the world isn't always easy, so I'm thankful for the power of Skype and the tech-savvy headset we now have that enables us to talk without sounding like warbling martians anymore. It's so nice to be able to grab a seat in the kitchen and call our loved ones whenever we want, but we tend to take it for granted until the big days come around. Being able to call you on your birthday just reminds us how especially lucky we are, Mom. And while I'm on the subject, thank you for always calling to say hello, keeping the conversation lively and helping me feel close to home while we're so far away, among many other things. For your belated birthday present, we'll set a date...soon. Love you. :)

A week in Lisbon

As you might have already guessed by looking at the Picasa gallery, I got to spend some time in Lisbon at the end of August. Our Lisbon offices does a lot of work for our Swedish clients, basically all the routine and boring stuff, freeing up our time to work on the non-routine projects and to focus more on consulting. It was decided that we would be able to work more effectively with Lisbon if we got to meet our colleagues face-to-face, and spent some time with them to better understand what they do down there. We had a few hours of meetings every day. We tried to explain what we expected of them. They tried to explain why certain processes took longer than we thought they should take. We tried to find typical Portuguese restaurants for lunch, and we were left alone to explore the city at night.

I'm sorry to say that I can't really write the best review, as I intentionally avoided most of the touristy stuff. It may not look that way from my photos, but my goal was to see everything at a distance, that way everything will still be exciting and new when I can return with my partner in crime to do some real sight-seeing.

My first impressions were that the city was old, run down and dirty. Lisbon is a port city, sitting on the estuary (a good word to test on Are You Smarter than a 5th Grader?) of the river Tagus. The harbour offers some amazing views, but shipping takes precedence over leisure. Near the touristy areas of town, where a good city planner should want to build miles of interrupted parks and walkways, you will instead find miles of industrial buildings that block your view of the water. The parks and walkways do exists, but you have to walk along a busy road for a few miles just to get to them.

Everything was crumbling. Every other block seemed to have a building that was in ruins, bricked up, or in some other form of total abandonment. It was obvious that everything was old and that the money wasn't there for annual repairs.

My views weren't helped by my runs through town. It was the worst running city I've ever been in. The sidewalks were all paved in two inch by two inch square stones. Beautiful, but rough on the legs. They were fairly level in the touristy areas, but once I got past that part of town, the stones were too wavy for me to handle. The sidewalks were also quite narrow in many places, some areas no wider than two feet wide, with cars zipping by just inches away. By the end of the week I found a route that I was somewhat happy with, but for anybody that is in the height of their marathon training, I highly recommend waiting to visit Lisbon until after the race.

The longer I stayed in town, the more I started to like it. The town became more and more charming with each passing day. Even the most run-down buildings seemed to have a story. You could see how rich and pretty the city must have been at one time. Miranda said my photos make the city look very Spanish, but with a bit more of a Moorish influence than the parts of Spain she had visited. If that's the case, I want to go to Spain. Based on my more-limited travels, I'd have to say that the city was like a cross between San Diego and San Francisco. You take the hills and the tight-quarters of San Francisco. Drop a bit of the San Diego weather and design onto the setting, age the city a couple hundred years, then add palaces and monuments that will never be built in America, and voila! You have a new copy of Lisbon.

My one regret is that I care too much about each individual run to ever run with a camera. That may be my lifetime regret. The most amazing photos of Lisbon are all framed in my head, but unfortunately weren't ever shot. The top tourist sites were all along the river, too far from the center to reach on a walk through town. Taxis were cheap, but I didn't want to pay for a taxi to drive me around just so I could snap a few photos.

My last comment is that the food was just awesome...and so was the wine. I love the Swedish food, all forms of well cooked meat and potatoes, but if I had eaten Portuguese food first, I may never have made it this far north. Most of the food I found in Lisbon had a heavy Brazilian influence, meaning grilled meats and not potatoes, but french fries. There were a lot of fish options too, but I'm not a seafood lover, so I stuck to my steak and fries, and loved every minute of it. And it was cheap too! Maybe it wouldn't be so cheap if my salary were adjusted for the cost of living, but dinner and nice lunches were less than half the price of what I would have to pay in Sweden.

On the other hand, I went to buy a suit in Sweden. Tried one on, it was a bit baggy but no different than my American suits. Tried on the same size in a slim fit and it fit me perfectly, long arms and all. Tried on a few suit coats in Portugal, the shoulders fit, the sleeves were four inches too short and the body was wide enough to fit three, maybe four of me inside. They didn't even have a slim fit option. Point is, maybe the Portuguese diet should be enjoyed in small quantities.

We'll head back to Portugal. I really want to explore the city and learn more about it. I also want to visit their wine country and their beaches, both of which are an easy drive from Lisbon. We still have a lot of cities that we hope to see in the next year and a half, so we might not make it back there any time soon, but returning is high on my list of priorities.

And now for something completely different

This is Scott here. I feel that's an important thing to clear up before I start my story.

I got my hair cut the other day. It was tough to chop off the long hair, especially when it was just starting to look cool, but for work reasons I really needed a clean(er)-cut look.

After the stylist finished cutting my hair she started to style it. Stylists normally ask if I want it styled, and I always say no because I immediately either go home and go for a run, or go home and shower. This time she didn't ask, she just started styling. But instead of just rubbing some product through my hair, she pulled out a straightening iron and went to work. I couldn't help but laugh, and I couldn't stop laughing. I don't know if she knew why I was laughing until I mentioned that this was my first time getting my hair straightened. Then with a completely serious face, she recommended that due to my naturally wavy hair, I might want to invest in a straightening iron. From the way she said it, I would guess that most men in Sweden may already own one before they reach my age.

As anyone who has ever looked at my head can tell, I can't and shouldn't claim to know much about styling, but still...do guys really own straightening irons? Have I been sheltered from the world of mens' hair styling all these years? I expected her to tell me which gel or cream might help keep my hair under control, and maybe give me some tips as to ways to brush or comb my hair to get it to behave, not to tell me to buy a straightening iron. To wrap it up, 27 years in the U.S. did not prepare me for this piece of advice.

It's about time

It's about time for another blog post, and even more importantly, it was about time for me to finally man up and do something that's been on my mind for ages. I put off taking a knee for much longer than I needed to. The excuse that everything had to be "just right" was too easy to fall back on. I put off writing this post for a while because I wanted to tell the story from a more objective point of view. The sappiness was thick enough in the birthday blogs written back in August.

The story officially began on August 2, 2003. I was invited to play softball with my coworkers and as it turned out, I crashed the birthday party of one of their friends. A few seconds after getting hit in the back with a softball, a softball that was chucked in towards the pitcher's mound from center field as I walked back from second to the dugout, I finally got my chance to meet the birthday girl. The birthday girl had thrown the ball that had hit me, so she ran up to me to and, as was only proper given the circumstances, she first introduced herself, then she apologized. Her name was Miranda.

Fast forward to early 2008. There's an extremely long story about my months of preparation leading up to August 2, 2008, but I'll save that for a follow-up post. I'm afraid that the story of how the ring was found and how it made its journey to Sweden might rival the epic story told in The Lord of the Rings.

Enough exaggerating. August 2 turned out like many typical fall days here in Sweden. It was grey, cold and rainy. Apparently fall isn't marked by a date on the calendar, but rather by the first week that the clouds overtake the sun. There were a number of things that made this particular Saturday a little special though. First, it was Miranda's birthday, as previously mentioned. Second, the city of Stockholm was hosting Europride 2008. Third, Miranda's mom and sister were in town.

The day started with the four of us extending our umbrellas and taking a hike down to Bee's Thai, a restaurant that Miranda has been craving since she first set her eyes on it back in April. After we were satisfied with our delicious meals we set back out on foot to pick our spots for the parade. We took a detour by my office, grabbed some hot chocolate and borrowed a few umbrellas. By the time we were back outside the rain had stopped, but I guess that's just another unimportant detail that I'm too lazy to remove.

The parade was fun. I actually had no idea what to expect, but I couldn't help but laugh inwardly at the irony of taking part in Europe's biggest gay pride festival on the same day that I would later propose to Miranda.

Miranda and I left Kendell and Taryn at our favorite Swedish pizza joint while we went home to get ready for our birthday date. I really didn't want to propose on Miranda's birthday, but so many things lined up that made this particular day work that I would have been stupid to try another day. Most importantly, her mom and sister were here in Sweden to share in the excitement. Next on the list of priorities was the fact that Miranda would take a trip back to the U.S. just a few days after the engagement, giving her the chance to tell all of her friends in person. Next, we had met exactly five years earlier, and lastly, it was our first time alone in about a week and a half.

So we got dressed up, took a few pictures, enjoyed some more of Miranda's birthday cake, and took off to try a new restaurant that we had never tried. The restaurant was on the other side of the island, so we took the subway and walked into a small place with a decent sized bar, simple northwoods type decorations, and the perfect amount of taxidermy, including a moose head mounted on the wall and an owl hiding in a gap on the way down the stairs to the men's restroom. They served traditional Swedish dishes, so Miranda tried the Biff Rydberg (my new favorite dish), and I "enjoyed" a bland moose burger with lingon ketchup. I did my best to butter Miranda up during the meal, throwing rapid-fire compliments her way. They were all sincere, but I'll be honest, complimenting is sadly not a habit of mine, so I'm surprised that Miranda didn't think that something bigger was in the works.

We left with big smiles on our faces and stepped onto lamp-lit streets and a mild sprinkle. I put up the umbrella, hugged her close and suggested walking down to the waterfront. The sky was black and from what I can remember, the rain made everything quite pretty. The sidewalks were empty, there were no boats on the lake and everything was as peaceful as could be. I suggested taking the long way home so we could enjoy the night and even though Miranda was wearing heels, she happily agreed. We walked a few hundred meters and stopped on a small footbridge to look at the skyline. To the left you could see the steeples of the old town and the bright lights of the city's main transit hub. Across the black lake you could see the high black cliffs with the lights of some cool old buildings up top. We talked for a while and did our best to take everything in. Finally I suggested moving a little farther up the path, that way we'd be off the path if anybody was walking by. There were a few small docks nearby, so we made our way up and walked out onto the first dock. We were still huddled together under the umbrella. I don't know when my conversation drifted from a sweet statement into a proposal, but somewhere mid-statement and mid-hug Miranda realized what was happening. I pulled back from the hug to look at her, even though I don't know if I could see at this point, and as I slipped a small package from my pocket and placed it in her hand, I said that I have two questions. The first question: "Do you want me to ask the next question in Swedish or in English?" The response: "Swedish." We cautiously worked to untie the knot and unwrap the tissue paper. Once the ring was out I said, "Vill du gifta mig?" (Do you want to marry me?) I honestly don't remember if she said "ja" or not at the time, but I followed my first question up by taking a knee and asking again as I put the ring on her finger, this time in English. This time she definitely said yes, and after about 20 minutes of joyful tears, we finally decided to walk home and share the news.

So there it is, the procrastinator did his job. Five years later and he finally popped the question. Five more weeks later and he finally wrote about it. At the rate we're going we might actually get around to setting a wedding date one of these days!

Vacation photos are up

I finally took the time to sort through and post our photos from Prague. Head on over to Picassa to check them out.

The story of the Vasa

When Kendell and Taryn were in town we had the opportunity to visit Stockholm's most famous museum, the Vasa Museum. Any tourist guide will tell you that this museum is a must-see.

There's a long story behind the name Vasa, but I'll give you the abridged history. Gustav Vasa was elected the king of Sweden after leading a rebellion against the Danes and freeing Sweden from Danish rule in the 16th century. We can also thank him for one of the world's most famous cross country ski races, the Vasaloppet.

In the early 17th century Sweden's King Gustavus Adolphus was at war in Poland. He decided that he wanted to build the world's most magnificent and powerful battleship as a sign of his power and wealth. The world's biggest ship was not enough for this powerful king, he wanted to design it himself. So he designed a massive boat, and to make sure it was the mightiest ship on the sea, he added an extra deck for another row of cannons, an unprecedented move at the time. The ship was to be named the Vasa.

The best Dutch shipbuilders were hired and the best German carpenters were brought to Stockholm. They worked for two years as the king anxiously awaited his new ship in Poland. The pressure was on, and despite signs that the ship's design might be flawed, the builders kept on building. In 1628 the ship was completed. It was decorated with the most ornate carvings and was decorated so that it would be fit for a king.

The sailors were allowed to bring their families on board to celebrate the first few miles of the maiden voyage, then once out of Stockholm's harbor the families would be dropped off on an island in the archipelago to sail back home and the ship would instead be filled with soldiers, ready to sail to war in Poland.

Everybody in Stockholm came out to see the ship's maiden voyage, and it must have been a sight. The ship took to the see, and after traveling just over a mile it caught the wind in its sails. The ship leaned and corrected itself. Again it leaned, dangerously far, but once again righted itself. The third time wasn't so lucky and the ship began taking on water through the cannon holes. The extra row of cannons made the ship so top-heavy that it could not balance itself and 15 minutes into its maiden voyage, the ship had sunk.

It appears that the builders knew that the ship wouldn't last long, but in those days, nobody was willing to stand up to the king. The ship also had tons and tons (literally) of rocks in the bottom of the boat for balance. They should have added more rocks to prevent the boat from rocking so much, but it turns out that if they had added the number of rocks needed to fix the problem, the ship would have been so heavy that it would have sunk anyway. It was doomed from the beginning.

The ship was rediscovered in the harbor in 1958 and raised from the sea and restored in 1961. It was buried in silt for most of those 333 years, preserving wood that should have rotted long ago. It's a very impressive sight, and something I highly recommend for all visitors.

While it's impressive that they were able to raise this ship off the sea floor in once piece and then restore it, there's another question that one should consider. I think my dad threw this question my way and I think it's something that one needs to consider when trying to understand the mentality of the Swedish people: "What kind of country puts so much work into celebrating and showing off their biggest folly?"

Stockholm's PD, FD and EMTs

Miranda pointed this out one day and after months of observation I think I can finally share this with the world: The police, firefighters and EMTs here in Stockholm are typically very attractive people. Unlike the stereotypical American cop, the stereotypical Swedish cops, both men and women, all seem to be built like seasoned triathletes. The same can be said for Sweden's EMTs, while the firefighters are similar, but with broader shoulders. The women fit another Swedish stereotype, they're mostly blond.

Another thing I find interesting is the percentage of men and women in each line of work. These are pretty rough as they're based solely on my observations, but it's the best I can do for now.

Police - 60% male, 40% female
Fire - 90% male, 10% female
EMT - 25% male, 75% female

I have heard that Swedes are very shy, so a single Swede that is looking for love will drink a little liquid courage then try his or her luck at a bar. After a few years of bad luck, they'll turn to the internet. A couple questions come to mind when I see an ambulance parked with one hot blond waiting by the vehicle and two hot blonds and a good looking guy wheeling a gurney out of a building. Mainly, why don't more single guys accidentally fall in the street and sprain a wrist or a knee? Similarly, I'd expect single Swedish women to become experts in attention grabbing but non-damaging arson. Out of control charcoal grills or minor grease fires might be an excellent way to snag a date.

The good old days of fast food

Remember the good old days when fast food restaurants were trying to win the hearts of the American people? Their kids' meals came with high quality toys that no kid could refuse and they often offered something cool for the adults too. For just a little extra we'll give you a Coca-Cola glass to take home. Not the giant plastic summer cups that Arby's advertises every summer, but real glass.

Well, my stomach isn't very happy the campaign, but the Swedish McDonald's are giving free Coke glasses to each customer that supersizes their meal (a supersized meal in Sweden is the same as a regular meal in the U.S., but without the free refills). There's a trick, the glasses are multi-colored.

I think I missed the first week or two of the campaign, but started two weeks ago with a McDonald's splurge and got two green glasses in one week. Then in my second week I got a grey glass. I just needed one more trip to McDonald's to get another grey glass so I could form a four piece glass set, two green and two grey. Perfect. But those tricky devils had something else in mind for me. The ad in the store said that the weekly color was grey, but they gave me a purple glass instead. What were they thinking? My plan was ruined. I didn't know if the purple glass was from a prior week or from the upcoming week, but I couldn't risk it. I had to eat two more meals at McDonald's before the end of the week. One for my grey glass and one for my purple glass.

I've obviously spent a lot of time in McDonald's as well, and from what I can tell, I'm the only person that's been suckered into this sweet deal. In my last six trips to McDonald's I've only seen one Swede walk away from the register with a Coke glass in hand. I'm such a silly American.

Well, I achieved my goal and now have six glasses. My mind is pretty happy with my accomplishment, but my body is screaming for me to stop this madness. Four trips to McDonald's in one week used to be normal for me, but I don't think I can handle that diet any longer. Needless to say, I really hope I missed the pink, yellow and blue weeks.

Belated birthday messages

Many of our readers are probably wondering how I can dedicate so much time to writing birthday blogs yet miss one of the most important birthdays of all...Miranda's! It gets worse...since she shares a birthday with my Dad, that means I forgot to blog about his birthday as well. Talk about a disaster.

August 2nd really was a pretty crazy day without a spare second to sit down and blog, but that's not much of an excuse considering the importance of these two people in my life.

I'll start with the person I've known longer, so happy belated birthday Dad! Most of the readers of this blog probably don't know or have barely met my father. Until you get to know him, you'll never be able to understand just how much I look up to him. For the last hour I have tried to describe how he has helped shape me into the man I am today, and I now know that writing that such a story in this blog is an impossible feat. He is the man and the father that I hope to become. I don't know if I can put it any better than that, so I won't even try. I just hope he enjoyed the wonderful birthday that he deserved.

Then there's that girl in my life, what do I call her? Oh yeah, "min älskling." Off the topic, but do you know how much cooler pet names are when they're in a foreign language? I do now. Anyway, I can't write long enough to express how I feel about Miranda, and if I wanted to try I wouldn't do it in a public blog. I will state publicly that she is absolutely incredible. I'm glad that I will never know what I would have done had she made the choice to stay in Minnesota. Asking her to move here was not easy for me and I can only imagine what she must have gone through in making the decision to move to Sweden. I will never take her sacrifices for granted.

Every thought of Miranda brings a smile to my face, and each day with her is happier than the previous day. We have no intention of declaring permanent residency in Sweden, or even extending our stay here, but I have never been as happy as I am now. And while Sweden and all it includes gets some of the credit for that, I'd give Miranda the other 99% of that credit. Moving to Sweden with her has so far been one of the best experiences of my life. We're constantly learning more about ourselves and each other, and there's at least one moment in each day when I catch myself falling for Miranda in a completely new way. I didn't even know that was possible! I love her with all my heart, and was extremely happy that her mom and sister were able to help me provide her with the fun and exciting birthday she wanted. Happy birthday, min älskling!

There's no good way to transition into this, but for her birthday present, I gave Miranda tickets for a hot air baloon ride over Stockholm. The tickets are good for a year out and we have to book a few weeks in advance, but hopefully we'll have some cool pictures from the ride to post before the end of the fall. She also enjoyed an amazingly good traditional Swedish birthday cake, a prinsesstårta, otherwise known as a princess cake. If you ever have the chance to try a Swedish princess cake, jump at it. We all agreed that we'd never had such a good cake in our lives. I looked into the recipe and it looks like it might even challenge the best bakers, and the recipe also says that it takes three and a half hours over three days (translation, six hours for the average joe), so I shelved it. If any of you are up for the challenge, let me know and I'll pass the recipe along. I can almost promise a delicious reward at the end.

The Truly Artificial Sweden-ers

Hej (hello) from Sweden! Taryn and Kendell are writing this blog, for those of you that don't know we are Miranda's sister and mom, respectively. We would first and foremost like to thank our hosts for doing everything they could to make our trip very special, and for putting up with us for two weeks!

From the moment we stepped off the plane we were lost. Only due to Scott's detailed step by step instructions did we find our way through customs and on to find our luggage. After finding our bags and converting our U.S. dollars to Swedish crowns we walked out of the airport only to be bombarded by a million cab drivers all yelling, "You come with me!" Being the only two possible customers in sight it was a bit intimidating. Thanks to Mom finding the cheapest one we were off on our way to find Miranda and Scott. Our very nice cab driver informed us after we had left the airport that he was a very new cab driver and would do his "very best" to get us to our destination, and he "really hoped he could do it." They weren't the most encouraging statements but we smiled and sat back for the scenic drive. After several wrong turns, one dead end, and few chuckles from the backseat (us) we finally reached our destination. Waiting for us outside the building, Miranda and Scott finally came into view, both with big smiles on their faces.

Our trip was eventful from the moment we arrived. Miranda and Scott took us on a seven-mile "stroll," as they called it, just a few hours after stepping off the plane. The days didn't get any less eventful as we averaged at least several miles of walking every day. The city of Stockholm is beautiful, and the streets have been packed with people daily. Mom says every day looks like Christmas shopping, with the constant traffic of people.

Some of our favorite things we saw here were the Skansen open air museum, the Vasa Museum, canal sightseeing boat trips, our cruise to Finland, the Nordic Museum, the Nobel Museum, City Hall, the new Batman movie, Miranda's birthday cake (princess cake, a traditional Swedish birthday cake), the beautiful city itself, the Europride parade, and last but not least our most favorite sight was Miranda and Scott. It was so nice to spend time with both of them after not getting to see them for months!

A few of our favorite Swedish dishes included the princess cake, lasagna, Swedish pizza, Swedish meatballs, kabob sandwiches, Max (a Swedish hamburger chain), Biff Rydberg and McDreams (chocolate cake sundaes from McDonald's), plus tacos and stir fry at home, and Miranda's homemade chocolate cookies.

Our trip was great, and Stockholm is truly a beautiful city! Thank you again Miranda and Scott, we love you both!

What is an archipelago anyway?

Sorry for the blogging hiatus. We have a lot to write, but decided that instead of spending a perfectly nice month in front of our computer, we'd enjoy our vacation, the city and most importantly our time with our guests.

I have been told that this July has been pretty hot for a Swedish summer. We've had two straight weeks of sustained temperatures between 75 and 80. 80 is a little hot, but really, it's almost perfect. There was one hot day that I broke down and bought a stylish tank-top. Not the typical white one that the overly macho American men choose to wear, but a black one with grey horizontal stripes. Very European in look and cut. I'm a little reluctant to wear the shirt, even if they're common here. But when I gain a little more confidence, or when the temperature passes 80 again, I'll bust it out in no time.

Some of the last few posts have mentioned the archipelago. I don't know how much detail I've provided on the archipelago, so sorry if I bore you with a repeat description, but it's pretty important to the city of Stockholm and will certainly be mentioned again, so here's the story...Stockholm is built on a group of islands where a large inland lake flows into the Baltic Sea. An archipelago is a group of islands clustered together, and Stockholm has such clusters, one small group to the west in Lake Mälaren, and one big one to the east in the Baltic Sea. I've read different promotional literature mentioning between 24,000 and 30,000 different islands in the two archipelagos. We've enjoyed a few trips out in the Baltic to some nearby islands when we were invited to the cabins of two of my coworkers, but got a much better chance to see more of the islands when we hopped a cruise to Finland. Most of the islands are tiny. Some just a few rocks sticking out of the water. Most are big enough for a few houses to a few hundred tightly-packed houses, and the largest islands have small cities that may or may not be connected to the mainland by bridge.

Personally, I find the islands fascinating. It's a good thing that Luther didn't offer a major in geology, otherwise I might have dropped my math/stats major and spent my life doing something most people consider even more boring than mysterious actuarial work: looking at rocks. Yep, it's true, I really am that big of a nerd.

Prepare yourself, because I'm about to share my excitement with all of you. I could spend hours just looking at the islands. My second trip among the islands I noticed that on most of the islands the rock met the water and the bottom continued to plunge deep to the point that you couldn't even see the bottom just a few feet from the shore. There were few shallow shores. Most of the islands are hard rock too, so you don't see much sand or dirt beaches...things you'd expect to see on shores that have formed from thousands upon thousands of years of waves lapping against the rock. This seemed a little suspect, so I did my research. Turns out that as late as the Viking Age (1,000 A.D.), the thousands of islands to the east of Stockholm were still under water. Now some of the islands tower to 100 feet above water. Think about that, in the course of a thousand and eight years, 20,000+ islands have risen out of the water! I know that no man can truly appreciate that in his lifetime, but it just blows my mind how dynamic our world can be. Does that mean that as the land continues to rise that the lake to the west will someday rise so high as to completely drain itself into the Baltic? Or maybe the islands in Stockholm will rise high enough to stop the water flowing from Lake Mälaren to the Baltic?

Cruising among the islands almost felt like somebody had flooded the Appalachian Mountains to the point that only the worn and rounded peaks were sticking out of the water. You could even see where different islands were grouped together like mountain ridges. I truly believe that if the water were to recede you'd have a beautifully old mountain range with deep valleys and weather-worn peaks. I dug further in my research to figure out how these were formed and found that it was the work of the glaciers (go figure). But unlike the glaciers that flattened Minnesota and inland Sweden, these glaciers didn't level out the land when they retreated. Instead, their weight was so heavy that the land below was pressed towards the earth's core. The molten part of the earth's mantle was squeezed out until the land could sink no further. After the glaciers retreated, the magma started to slowly return underneath the earth's crust, pushing it upwards, causing land to very slowly rise from the sea. I guess the land is still rising about one centimeter a year, causing lake front property to retreat from the shores, Viking-era fishing villages to lie hundreds of meters inland, and new islands to form every year.

To bring this closer to home, the same thing is happening along Lake Superior. The Canadian shore is slowly rising and the U.S. shore is slowly sinking. Maybe in another 1,000 years the town of Superior, Wisconsin, will be completely under water.

To wrap it all up, the archipelago is Stockholm's playground. Everyone appreciates it for different reasons. Mostly for the beauty and the boating and camping opportunities, but there are also nerds like me who appreciate it just because it exists.

Crazy Month

If you haven't noticed, we have been AWOL for about two weeks. We've had a lot of things to do, all requiring a fair amount of planning, prep work and recovery time at the end. We still hope to fill you in on all of these events in the next week. Here's a quick summary of what has happened.

Two weeks ago - Scott took a trip with some coworkers to a cabin decently far out in the archipelago. First time really seeing the islands and some nice photos to share.

Last week - Vacation in Prague and Bratislava

This week - Miranda's mom and sister are in town. The day after they arrived we took a cruise to Helsinki, Finland and just got back today (two nights on board and the day in between on Finnish soil). More photos to share, and hopefully we'll even have a few posts authored by our first guests!

Prague and Bratislava

Where to start and what to say? More difficult than you'd think. We returned from Prague and Bratislava a few hours ago and have some rave reviews. As expected, Prague was incredible. Maybe even more incredible than expected. And although I had heard good things about Bratislava before planning this trip, I was still pleasantly surprised with just how much I liked that city.

Both cities were full of areas that would have made the dirtiest areas of Oslo and Copenhagen look as clean as my grandma's sparkling kitchen stove, but I expected that out of two Eastern European cities, and unlike in the Nordic cities, I think the shady areas actually added a bit to the charm of Prague and Bratislava. Walking out of the run-down sections into the beautifully-groomed historical areas felt almost magical at times. And seeing what has become of the Communist-era block housing was fascinating. Beyond that, it's impossible to describe what I thought and felt.

I've tried to continue with this post time and time again, and frankly, there's just too much to write. I want to give the details like I've done for our previous trips, but it's overwhelming. Impossible. Both cities were amazing, and although alike in many ways, 100% different.

Prague was massive. Prague must have been very rich at one point, or multiple points as it had an incredible mix of Gothic and baroque. The city had more tourists than any place I have ever seen, and it seemed like they had one tourist shop for every tourist walking the streets. Prague's buildings and streets screamed that there was a history and a story to be told, but the Czech museums did nothing to tell that story. Most of Prague felt safe, but there were also streets that we chose to avoid both day and night, even though they led directly to one of the hotels we stayed in. Prague had our favorite restaurant. A hole in the wall, but with great food and half liters of quality beer that were cheaper than any other beverage on the menu. Plus, it didn't look like the type of place where you'd want to order tap water. Outside of the tourist areas you could still feel the weight of Communism, but the city was so big that if you chose to stay near the center you would never know that those areas existed. So much of what I have said may seem negative, but the good stuff was so enormously good that it far outweighs the bad. The uber-tourist feel got a bit old and made the city feel unnecessarily crowded, but that aside, the city was amazing. Final review, Prague is beyond description, but so far it tops our list. Go there.

Bratislava is situated among the Carpathian Hills with a tiny old city. Half a mile by half a mile, maybe? The Danube runs through and at that point the river is best compared to the Mississippi running along Iowa. It was obviously a much poorer city than Prague with only one dominant structure from the past, a massive castle that towered over the city. If it weren't for the fact that our tourism book told us that the castle had burned down in the early 1800s and was rebuilt starting in 1951, we never would have known that it wasn't the original structure in front of us. As a tourist, there really wasn't much to do from a sight-seeing perspective. The castle, some small but pretty churches, some old city fortifications and the classic narrow streets. At the same time, the old city felt so comfortable. And hardly any tourist shops! I could have spent my entire vacation sitting on a different restaurant patio for each meal, enjoying the great food and watching the people stroll by. It was so peaceful. Even though there were obviously tourists, the streets were never crowded. Hanging out in the city just felt nice. Unfortunately, Miranda caught a killer cold during our main stay in Bratislava, which brought a very early end to our stay in Bratislava. It was better that she got sick in Bratislava instead of Prague, but it was still a bit of a downer. Back to the influence of Communism...If you were looking for the stereotypical signs of Communism, you could find them within just a few blocks of the old city. Final review, Bratislava was quite nice and very relaxing. Don't make a special trip there, but if you're ever passing from Prague to Budapest, or have some extra time in Vienna, make the trip into Bratislava. You won't regret it.

We took a lot of photos and hope to get them up soon, but in reality know that it may be a while.

Nightclub in Prague

They have free internet access at a nightclub. Crazy!!!

Oh yeah, and we wanted to say hi while we have a chance. Prague is awesome.

New Age Viking

It's been awhile, but a few weeks back I returned from a weekend "business" trip to Minneapolis and felt like a new age viking returning with my spoils from war. When Miranda arrived in Sweden we immediately started a list of everything we wanted to buy once we returned to the U.S. It continued to grow and grow as we learned about all of the little things that we loved but couldn't find here. Unlucky for me, I returned to the U.S. before Miranda, so I got the job of buying everything on our list.

It was actually a very nice trip, even if it was extremely short. I randomly met an old college friend on my flight from Amsterdam to Minneapolis. Found out that he's working in Dubai and was on his way back to the U.S. for a six week summer break. I chatted with his brother and dad after clearing customs, then got in touch with another good college friend who picked me up at the airport. After that the weekend was a blur. I got to spend a decent amount of time with most of my college friends, attended a professional seminar, saw a fair number of coworkers and most of my post-college friends, spent a lot of time with Miranda's family and got to play fetch with my cat Helius (yes, he really plays fetch, and when I was in the house, he didn't want to do anything but play). I spent even more time with my parents, got in some nice runs on the Mendota Heights trails plus a long run around all of the lakes in Uptown, and I even got to compete in a local 5K on Harriet Island and Lilydale Road. Everything about the weekend was a rush, but it was so nice to see some familiar faces for once. I felt bad that I couldn't dedicate much time to any one given person, but there was just too much to do.

It was good to be home, and it was amazing how quickly I fell into my old way of life. Plans every night with non-stop errands. I know it was a special situation, but the long lists of things to do just seemed too normal. My first day in town I tried to be very Swedish and took the Light Rail downtown, then walked all the way across downtown to my seminar. It felt good. Not dependent on a car. That night I was going to catch a bus to a friend's party, but another friend offered to give me a ride in that direction. I got dropped off about two miles away and wandered around the neighborhoods (not knowing where I was going and amazed that there are no sidewalks in Columbia Heights) until I found my destination. You have no idea how many "who's that crazy guy?" looks I received from passing drivers. Yeah, it was 80 degrees and humid, and during my hour lost in the suburb, I was the only person walking.

So the next day I went back to my American ways. If I wasn't shopping I was driving...a few loops from West St. Paul to Minneapolis to Roseville to West St. Paul. Probably about 50-75 miles a day. It was ridiculous. It wasn't necessary, it just happened. More than anything, it made me realize just how spread out the Twin Cities really are. Everything is so close and accessible that it's no big deal to drive to the next destination, but once you add up each stop you realize that you've gone way farther than you ever intended. It also made me realize how much I love the layout here in Stockholm. Having everything you need within walking distance makes life so much simpler.

So as I said, I took advantage of the weak dollar and listened to my cravings (Chipotle was amazing. Never take that for granted!) and bought like a madman, or as I said, attacked the city like a new age viking. I won't list everything, but this picture might give you an idea.

The bike is a story of bad timing. I've had my eye this specific model for a while, but never wanted to buy it at full price. For some reason I hopped onto Craiglist Minneapolis about three weeks after moving to Stockholm and found a used version of the bike for a price too good to pass up. Miranda's parents really came through for me in making the transaction, and it has been sitting in their basement ever since. The bike is a messenger bike, and I'm pretty sure that, excluding the messengers, I'm the fastest city rider in town.

Lastly, a funny story. When Miranda's parents dropped me off at the Minneapolis airport there was a Channel 5 TV van. We commented that we hoped nothing big was happening, but otherwise forgot about it. Apparently Channel 5 did a news story on pick-pockets at the airport that night, and my butt, hidden under big-pocketed shorts, was featured on the news! Kendell recognized me lugging my bike box and carry-on into the airport as the camera zoomed in on my rear end. To add to the irony, I had diamond earrings in my pocket for Miranda. Probably one of the best pick-pocket targets at the airport that night. Luckily, the earrings were delivered to Miranda without any problems. And for those of you who know about Miranda's "engagement earrings" theory, I want you to know that these were not engagement earrings. Just a "thank you for moving to Sweden" gift. Or as we jokingly call them, "domestic partner earrings."

Eastern Europe, here we come

We've been blogging at a pretty slow pace this month, mostly because our free time has been dedicated to making last minute plans for an upcoming vacation. Tomorrow afternoon we'll be flying to Bratislava. We'll spend the night there, then catch a train to our main destination, Prague, where we'll stay for four nights before returning to Bratislava for two more nights. In the end we'll be out of town from Sunday to Sunday with little connection to the outside world.

We have not done much research on either city yet, but know just enough to be excited.

A couple other blog posts are in the works, and hopefully we'll be able to polish them off before we leave, so be sure to check in soon.

Photo blogging

Today we're sharing a collection of our top 10 photos from the past week to give you a quick peek at the spectacular skylines, gallons of fresh air consumed and quality time we've been enjoying in town.

#1 - Certainly the most vibrant sliver of a rainbow we've ever seen.

#2 - A bird's-eye view of the half sun-shower, half partly-cloudy day that divided just outside our window.

#3 - Ten o'clock on a Saturday night.

#4 - Assembling a commuter bike from Minnesota.

#5 - Hot air balloons dotting the skyline during a run.

#6 - A sunny picnic lunch at Mosebacke torg.

#7 - Showing off the success of Midsommar sales.

#8 - A late night out on the town (see the 2:30 a.m. sunlight).

#9 - Biking through the city to run errands.

#10 - Making homemade Swedish pizza. Delicious!

Is today a holiday?

I'm working on the fourth of July for the first time in over eight years. No parades or fireworks either...what a bummer.

Midsommar in Sweden

We ate pickled herring last weekend!

Yes, we've been slow to post about our adventures at the Swedish Midsommar holiday because it deserves such a detailed recap. And, quite frankly, the two-day celebration was exhausting, but so much fun.

So what is Midsommar exactly, besides the middle of the summer (or the first day of the summer in America)? Midsommar is a pre-Christian holiday to celebrate the summer solstice. It's a bigger celebration in the Nordic countries than in mainland Europe, which is likely due to the exaggerated length of the summer days. It seems the Church tried to Christianize it, but didn't have as much luck as they did with the winter solstice. Our Swedish teacher mentioned that the Midsommar traditions in the times of the vikings involved a lot of drinking and resulted in "fertility parties." Funny translation, but you get the point. She also mentioned that this resulted in a lot of fatherless children being born every March. The superstitions of magic and fertility continued to be associated with the festivals over the years, but today the festival is known mostly for silly singing, dancing and lots of drinking.

Scott came home to tell me that we had plans for Midsommar after attending a work happy hour and dinner event a few weeks ago. We were invited to join his co-worker, Per, and Per's wife, Katarina, at their cabin in the Archipelago, along with a dozen of their friends and family members.

Even the trip to the cabin was a real treat! It was arranged that we would be picked up in a boat by Bjorn, another party-goer who gave us a great water tour of the places we've only seen from land thus far. We passed through the lock and dam in record speed (we were told), so we took extra time to take the scenic route through a gorgeous area of town.

We couldn't have asked for better weather. Warm and sunny with a slight breeze. Plus good company, we had the perfect ingredients for a beautiful Midsommar.

While docking at the cabin on Storholmen, we were greeted by the sight of a gorgeous cabin on a hillside of plants and wildflowers. The table down by the water was already set for lunch, and we helped unload the boat and introduced ourselves as guests continued to arrive. (Meeting two Annas, two Pers and two Bjorns made remembering all of the names a little easier!)

We sat down to our Midsommar lunch a bit unsure of what we were getting ourselves into. The meal consisted of three types of pickled herring (mustard, onion and Archipelago flavors), fresh potatoes, boiled with dill and seasoned with sour cream and chives, and knacka bread (flat and crisp like a cracker) with butter and cheese. Honestly, I think we were both pleasantly surprised to find that the pickled herring was not as bad as it sounds - we even LIKED it! The entire meal was delicious, in fact. To drink, everyone was poured a small glass of beer, as well as tall shot glasses filled with a traditional liquor called snaps. This particular bottle of snaps had a very mild flavor, perhaps most similar to a spiced rum like Captain Morgan, but the taste was not too strong, even though the alcohol hits you quickly. The snaps was good as well, although it is a good thing we sipped it slowly, because there were many songs sung throughout the meal - each followed by a shot/sip of snaps!

Following lunch, we joined a steady parade of people marching toward the communal Midsommar celebration. The community gets together to cover a Maypole with greenery and flowers, then raises the Maypole to dance around. A band plays traditional songs and people sing and dance around the pole. The songs are comparable to the chicken dance and the hokey pokey as far as the lyrics and dances. Our companions commented that Swedes are known to be extremely reserved, then once a year they all show up at a gathering place and do silly dances with strangers. They all think it's ridiculous, but since it's okay to loosen up for one day a year they all take advantage of the atmosphere. It was obvious that everyone was having a great time.

The rest of our time on the island was spent socializing, playing games, being spoiled with incredible meals and tipping back a few glasses of wine. (There are more great pictures of the festivities in our Picassa Web albums.) We went out in the midnight twilight to sing a ghostly song in front of the "haunted castle" on the island. Turns out the "ghosts" were throwing a pretty decent party on the grounds of the run down castle, so we kept our distance, did our best to avoid the flocking teenagers, sang our song, and went on our way.

All in all it was an excellent weekend. We are still pretty excited that we were able to celebrate this holiday with a bunch of Swedes, and couldn't thank our host and hostess enough. It was so much better than watching from a distance.

Solo flights

It looks like Scott's flight has landed in Minneapolis on time, which means he's likely already on his way to meet up with the guys by now. I know he's hoping to see as many friends as possible, former co-workers, his parents, who will be driving up from Iowa, and also my family during the weekend. Plus, he has his work conference tomorrow morning, a birthday party tomorrow evening, a 5K race on Saturday and a number of runs planned throughout the weekend. I can only hope he'll have time to check a few items off of the mile-long shopping list we put together. Have fun and good luck getting everything done, Scott. Don't forget to enjoy a meal at Chipotle for me.

When I was talking to my mom earlier tonight, I realized that this is really the first time I've been this far from friends and family on my own. Even when I studied abroad in Spain during college, I was lucky enough to meet my wonderful girlfriend Toni in the Minneapolis airport before we left for our program. So it was kind of cool to think that this weekend marks my first solo flight. Also kind of strange.

Tomorrow is my last day of SFI class before we break for the summer. We're having a potluck to celebrate, and everyone is bringing a traditional dish from their homeland. I wasn't about to attempt baking an apple pie, and State Fair foods seemed out of the question, so we'll be enjoying my best rendition of my mom's pasta salad instead. Cheers to summer!

There's Norway that Oslo is better than Stockholm

After our return from Copenhagen both Miranda and I have turned critical eyes toward our surroundings here in Stockholm. We noticed that we had been ignoring many of Stockholm's less glamorous parts, but even now we still believe that Stockholm should come out on top. We hope that our review of Oslo and Bergen is objective and fair, but for those of you that don't want to dig through all the details, Stockholm wins again.

Let's start with Norway in general. The countryside is beautiful. Start with the green rolling hills along the Mississippi, add in endless miles of coastline, and then start climbing up the foothills into an amazing mountain range. The land is rocky and isn't good for much, but it makes for some incredible scenery.

Then we'll head over to Bergen. As previously stated, we took the train from Oslo to Bergen. It departed around 11:10 at night and arrived at 7:00 the following morning. I think they could have made the trip faster, but arriving at 7:00 was plenty early. Each seat came with a brand new fleece blanket, an eye mask and ear plugs, all of which were greatly appreciated. We did our best to sleep, but it was just our luck that our seats were against the back wall, meaning we couldn't recline. We tossed and turned all night, and the one good thing about that is that we had a lot of opportunities to check out the view. Other than the miles of tunnels, which alone were incredible, we were always rewarded with an amazing view. And thanks to the northern latitude, we had decent light for the entire trip.

Bergen used to be Norway's biggest and most important city as it was the trading center off to the west. The Norwegian farmers and fisherman would bring their goods to the port where English traders would come to exchange more refined items like tea, beer, and manufactured products. We couldn't tell a difference, but rumor has it that the Norwegians on the west coast are quite talkative and are great at bargaining while Norwegians from the south and the east tend to be fairly quiet and reserved. Bergen had some of the craziest narrow and crooked roads we've ever seen, and we just couldn't get enough of the tiny houses. The mountains looked like exaggerated bluffs, and after looking around for just a few minutes it was no surprise that the Norwegian settlers ended up in Decorah, Iowa. We spent the day visiting everything that was reachable on foot, far more than we should have tried to see. The city was quite cool and by six at night we were exhausted...only five hours to burn until our train departed for Oslo! Our pictures of Bergen can show the highlights better than I can describe, so head on over to Picassa and check them out.

Unfortunately there were a few downsides to Bergen, which we later found out extended to Norway in general.

First, the prices. Norway makes Sweden seem cheap. Two good hamburgers and one Coke without refills at a sit-down restaurant by the piers? Try $75. You'd think as a math major I could have done the math before placing the order...and sadly, those were the cheap options. As an additional slap in the face that restaurant wasn't even airing the European Cup, which was the first thing we asked the waiter and the only reason we even took a seat!

Second, Norwegian business accepts credit cards, but a lot of places don't accept international cards. We even got turned away at McDonald's while trying to track down a cheap meal!

Third, Bergen was ridiculously touristy. We're not talking about free souls wandering around in their tennis shoes with a backpack and a camera. We're talking about groups of 50 people stepping off a bus, lighting a cigarette, then following the tour guide holding a sign up in the air. Two or three buses would have been fine, but I swear there were at least 25 of these groups clogging up central Bergen. Back to number two. Why wouldn't a touristy town like this accept international credit cards?

Fourth, drugs. I've seen a few small drug exchanges at bus stops in downtown Minneapolis but have never seen anything like what we saw in Bergen. We had wandered into a big park in a ritzy area of town. The apartments lining the park were by far the nicest of anything we had seen in town, and most of the people passing through the park seemed fairly well off. But there were also two groups just sitting in the sunshine, openly selling drugs. I sat there, watched one man walk up to four guys on the hilltop, pull a large bag full of white powder out of his coat, shake hands and walk away. In the next five minutes 20 people ranging from their late teens to kids in their 20s showed up in backpacks, chatted for 30 seconds, counted out their bills, exchanged and stashed goods, shook hands, and went their way. Miranda and I went to sit in another area of the same park and as I was about to sit down I noticed cigarette butts that I didn't want to sit on. I looked for a clear spot and noticed multiple syringes pushed into the dirt. We didn't stick around long after that. I guess drugs are actually a pretty big problem in Norway. Most Swedes have told me that few Swedes have ever even come into contact with marijuana until they head to America to study, but as soon as you cross into Norway you're faced with some pretty rough stuff.

We filled the rest of our night in Bergen at a sports bar and enjoyed watching the Netherlands dominate the soccer match. After digging our goods out of a storage locker at the train station we hopped a 10:50 train back to Oslo, this time with reclining seats. I tried to stay awake to see some of the mountains on the way out of town, but after about an hour I closed my eyes and didn't open them again until we rolled into Oslo at 6:30 in the morning. We were bummed to leave Bergen without taking a fjord tour, but you need more than 18 hours in town to pull that off.

We took our time getting everything pieced together off the train and completed the two-mile hike across town to our hotel (yellow castle-like building in the photos), hoping to leave our bags there until we could check in. Turns out the room was ready, so we checked in at 7:30, cleaned up, took short nap, then went downstairs to enjoy the continental breakfast. After a small lunch of cold cuts from a grocery store in Bergen the day before, the over-sized breakfast buffet was more than welcome, even if we shouldn't have been allowed to enjoy it until the following morning. Miranda even thought it was the best part of the trip!

We hiked through the city center and checked out a random free museum. As you'll see from our photos, central Oslo is amazing. As you move from the center to the water, the Aker Brygge area, you pass by a bunch of new architecture. Apparently it was an old shipyard that was replaced with new buildings, and in my mind it was done very well. I had often defended Stockholm saying Stockholm doesn't need to add new architecture, but after seeing that part of Oslo I'm starting to wonder.

Once again, you can see most of what we did from our photos, but here are a few major highlights. The first was the ski jump up on the mountain over town. Wow. Vigeland's Park, the sculpture garden. Never seen anything like it. I could spend a lot of Saturdays just laying around in that park. Lastly, the Sweden vs. Spain match shown on the big screen. We showed up five minutes early to get a seat (the place was half empty for the Germany vs. Croatia game two nights before), only to find a packed park with 500 people waiting to get in. Luckily we found a spot on the hill where we could still see the game.

Low-lights, Sweden losing to Spain in the 90+2 minutes of injury time. Seriously! Completely checking out at a grocery store only to have our international credit cards denied. They had to switch lanes while I ran down two blocks to a 7/11 to withdraw some cash. Once again, more drugs. The window where druggies went to get clean needles and condoms wasn't a big deal. The woman with the signs of meth all over her face just a block away was. There were also a few "interesting" groups keeping the police busy outside the train station. Lastly, we took a tram ride through a non-touristy area of Oslo, only to see a pretty dirty area similar to what we had seen in Copenhagen.

Obviously Oslo and Stockholm are different. The lake and sea around Stockholm and the mountains around Oslo just can't be compared. Otherwise, Oslo has more extremes than Stockholm. Vigeland Park and Aker Brygge are areas that would really add to what Stockholm already has going for it. But if those come with dirty streets, run down buildings, graffiti and drug problems just outside the city center, it's just not worth it.