Going to Grad School--Stockholm

When I left Regensburg, Germany the first time it was to head to Stockholm for graduate school in Sweden.  I was kindly given a sack full of sandwiches made of semmel mit wurst.  I caught the train to the north of Germany and had many hours to kill before I caught my ferry to Sweden.  Because it was the only film in English that I could find, I went to see DEATH WISH with Charles Bronson, a revenge killing film that was not my normal genre.   Then I boarded the overnight ferry. 

When I had lived in Germany, my boyfriend left for Poland for a month and asked his sister and husband in Munich to put me up.  To say the least it was awkward due to the language difference.  They were kind people and all went well.  One day the sister’s neighbor needed help moving and cleaning in her apartment.

I needed money and was eager to help.  After several hours of scrubbing, it was time for lunch.   I was offered a gin and tonic and iceberg lettuce.  That lettuce was at a premium in Munich at the time and probably cost more than I was being paid.  The gin and tonic also caught me by surprise.  I had never had one.

The neighbor explained that she had once dated an American soldier and that they drank gin and tonics.  And they had salads made with iceberg lettuce.

Several weeks later I was finally on the overnight ferry to Sweden.  My only ferry experience was in the San Juan Islands.   It was going to be a long trip so I went up to the bar and ordered a gin and tonic.

The next day as the ferry began to arrive in Nynashamn I was nervous about how I would get myself—and all my worldly goods (a suitcase, a down comforter and a backpack) to the dormitory I supposed to live http://open.salon.com/blog/silverlake in Stockholm.

As I watched the ferry approach the dock I was joined by two Swedes.  I asked them about transportation between the port and Stockholm.  They looked at each other and asked if I could drive a stick shift.  I said yes.

Within minutes I was driving a Porsche off the ferry.  Due to the stringent alcohol laws, the guys I met were cautious about their onboard drinking.   Grinding the gears a few times, and watching the ethereal fog rising from the lowlands, I drove to Stockholm in tandem with the second guy’s Porsche.  Those two guys were decent enough to take me to hotel after hotel (fully booked) and to the Youth Hotel (filled) until they found a bed and breakfast in the outskirts of Stockholm.

My money was short and I didn’t want to spend more than I needed.  I lived off of those sweetly given sandwiches for several days. Half sandwich at a time.