Sweden Part 1

I love Tiffany, she's logical, she's smart, she's funny, she doesn't get mad when I do stupid shit, she's organized and she's down for whatever madness falls from the sky. Yet at 5:30 AM on Friday mornings I HATE her like Vito hates Mookie. (Do The Right Thing 1989)

Tiff: Awww...you are the sweetest...but you're right - not the sweetest early in the morning

I don't know why I agree to shit like this. I've lived with me for 33 years, long enough to know that I need at least 6 hours of sleep a night and yet whenever we buy plane tickets I clap like a monkey and vote for the earliest flight possible, because we might as well get there as early as we can. This time we're meeting up with John and Missy, friends of ours from Portland. John is the band, From Ashes Rise, they are playing a festival in a small town in Sweden and has invited us to come up for the show and to spend the weekend camping in the great outdoors.

We have plane tickets to Gothenberg, Sweden and we're headed to Munkedal, which is about an hour (or 36 fjords) north.

Tiff: Still no idea how to get from one place to the other - but we'll figure it out.

Like most of the plans Tippy and I come up with, we're not totally sure about anything. We know Munkedal is VERY small and might not have any sort of store or place to buy ANYTHING so we'll need to take enough to keep us alive for the whole trip. We are sure we're camping so we pack only the bare necessities:

1 tent

2 sleeping bags

2 tarps

2 chairs

a sweatshirt

socks

draws

an extra pair of pants

various snacks

a couple bottles of water

a bottle of grapefruit soda

and one bottle of Russian vodka

Tiff: Trips on the fly are always the best the way to go - forget planning.

Everything miraculously fits in a rolling duffel bag, and a small carry on, both of which are (presumably) waterproof.

I'm tired and grouchy so I bitch and complain the ENTIRE subway ride to the airport and Tiffany doesn't yell at me, I will never understand this but it will probably get her nominated for Sainthood someday.

There are another couple sitting across from us on the train. You can tell by looking at them that they partied all night, well, he did. He's passed out on her shoulder, she's staring at their reflection in the window, she's trying her best not to just get up and leave this drunk bastard. Her expression is repeating "I have GOT to breakup with this guy, I have GOT to breakup with this guy, I have GOT to breakup with this guy, I have GOT to breakup with this guy, I have GOT to breakup with this guy". We don't speak but 3 out of 4 of us know exactly what's going on and I decide to shut my mouth about being tired and cranky.

Two planes later we get to Munkedal and meet up with John, Missy, Derek the bass player and his girlfriend Ivy. Also attached to our group is one of the drunkest Canadians I've ever met, while we wait for our luggage with he yells about Poutain to whoever will listen, so I video him.

Tiff: Video shot before he threw his luggage on me...and refused to come out to see his family waiting for him on the other side of the luggage pickup...entertaining for a second, but had to shake him.

Missy, John, Derek and Ivy have a ride to Munkedal cause they're rockstars but regular-ass Tiff and I have* to figure our own way. The lady at the info desk tells Tiff there is only one bus to the city, so we can't get lost. We find the bus and it takes us to the train station. We find the right train, eat some lunch and climb aboard the 12:45 north-bound train. An hour and a half later we arrive in Munkedal and follow the punks who lead us first to the liquor store and then to the camping area. Munkedal is small, one grocery store, one liquor store, one pizza place and one small cafe, you can walk the circumference of town in 24 minutes.

Tiff: *GET to figure our own way

Oh, and it's raining pretty hard. Has been for awhile. It's wet and we have to set up camp. We walk to the camping area and survey the grounds, we'll need high ground to stay dry, Tip wants to be far enough away from the throngs that we can sleep while the inevitable party rages into the night, I maintain that if we're too far away we'll simply end up closer to the area that people will be using as a bathroom when the port-a-potties get filled up and/or tipped over. As it turns out everyone ends up being correct.

Hooray.

I set up the tent and rig up a tarp as a front porch/dry dock area with some bungee cords and borrowed string, you can see it in the picture below. Camp is now complete and I can crack a beer and go make friends with the neighbors , a group of Swedes with a massive tent who are sitting around a hookah drinking beers and listening to an old school ghetto blaster. I quickly find out that everyone in Sweden speaks English and is sarcastic, absurd & hilarious. We now have a good crew to hang with in the camp area. Lund, Nils, Svante, Cecilia and Jacob combined with me and Tiff proceed to drink and talk shit for awhile.

Tiff: Note our tent in the background - nice job babe

(L-R) Cecilia, Nils, Lund

Tif & Svante

Jacob, Cecilia, Nils

Lund, Nate

Tiff: These 5 were fucking fantastic - we couldn't have asked for better people to camp next too - they were all sooooooo rad!

A good, long while cause it's now 8 hours later, it's time to go to the show and Tiff is wasted.

WAY-STA-D

We make a muddy, slippery trek over a muddy slippery trail through the woods to the show watch at least a couple bands.

Tiff: This is where I fade

On the way in I meet a BIG dude with 2 beers in his hand. I go "you're not allowed to take beers in." He goes, "Oh, okay. Here" and hands me a beer. I ask if he wants to shot gun them, he has no idea what I'm talking about so I teach him, I stick my knife in and he does the same. 1, 2, 3, done. I have a new best friend.

We stumble into the festival, bee-line it to the beer garden where he buys the whole table a couple rounds of beers. A bit later when it's time for him to leave he sticks as many leftover beers as he can fit into his belt and hobbles to the entrance/exit where the beers succumb to gravity. The cops laugh along with the rest of the beer garden and then help him pick up his runaway alcohol and send him on his way. A few hours later I head back to the tent with what's left of Tippy.

Tiff: Wet and muddy me