today i sat by the river fyris and dangled my levis-clad feet legs over the edge of the boardwalk. i rejoiced in the fact that i finally remembered what it was like to be warm again, and to hell with sun damage and spf. i took pictures of a happy couple, and stared at the brilliant sun with rooster in my head (the band, not an actual cockerel). i made faces at the water as i tried various pieces of candy i'd bought from the corner shop according to what they tasted like, but in any event they did help to alleviate the pain from my ridiculously ornery throat a little.

i sat in the sun and stretched and dreamt as i mentally ticked off all the things i'd managed to complete, which hadn't seemed possible when i tumbled out of bed that morning, sick and out of sorts and late. i took heart in the fact that although i am already completely lost for my law module, i'm loving the shakespearean one-- a LOT. then i watched with my notes spread across my lap as the fyris ducks paddled busily across the water, drawing great swooping triangles across the river water in their wakes.

it's been twenty-two days since i first arrived in sweden. i don't know if i actually feel like leaving at the end of all of this; uppsala is ridiculously easy to fall head over heels in love with. the first day we arrived i dragged my parents and our concomitant pieces of luggage all over town, several times, searching for where the heck i was supposed to go. my ambivalence about going to sweden and leaving-- most acutely-- blast behind had pretty much meant that i hadn't done anything apart from getting myself, my laptop, a travel diary and a bunch of clothes onto the plane. at the bus station my parents unintentionally threw down the gauntlet when they stood back and said "now, let's pretend we're not here. so how will you handle this?" all they wanted to do was to see if i could take care of myself; being me i obviously took that as a challenge and hardheadedly persisted in trying to find my own way on a map i couldn't quite figure out. in the end by the biggest stroke of luck ever-- just when my arms were cramping from dragging my luggage about-- i chanced upon a sign that said "akademihotellet", which had a ring of vague familiarity about it. the woman behind the counter saved my life after she helped me find out where my room was supposed to be, the company i was supposed to go to (about two plus km away. to be exact, right beside where we had gotten off our airport bus) and what i could do to find stuff and get ready for moving in.

i still cannot believe my room. it's a lot bigger than i'd envisioned; big enough to fit my parents and me for the days they stayed here, which might have been a mistake in hindsight because i felt so suffocated by the constant human contact i snapped at them every five minutes or so. the best part about it is that it's located a stone's throw away from an unbelievable graveyard, filled with dearly departed both from long long ago and as recent as a few years back. they are not my departed and not dear to my heart, and so the sorg-- sorrow-- of their passing is not my cross to bear; and hence i callously but gratefully cherish the peace that emanates from the cemetery every day i walk back to my room. it's a ritual, almost-- i leave the need to talk and smile and socialise and interact behind and go through this veil to my little room, which is beginning to seem more and more like home to me.

in the ensuing days we found ourselves in stockholm, sweden, and then copenhagen, denmark-- a place i detested for all its legendary beauty. stockholm was lovely if not breathtaking in the way uppsala still is, to me; we walked throughalong the rain-slick cobblestoned pathways of gamla stan (old town) and perused shops with wares ranging from freshly-still-being-made waffles cones (B&j's) to mystical looking candy (Old Town Candy Shop) to knickknacks my mum couldn't resist buying. we had a buffet lunch at Hermitage, a place recommended by my guidebook, which i am growing increasingly mistrustful of. in a doorway two buskers strummed their guitars and sang with the voices of angels oasis' wonderwall, stopping only when someone had to go past them through the door they were sitting in front of. the wind was cold-- never colder, really-- and it became worse still when it started raining in earnest instead of the halfhearted drizzle we'd faced the whole day. still, it was lovely. there was a life and vibrancy to the city streets and the people that i simply cannot put into words.

copenhagen on the other hand was a complete contrast. as individuals everyone was delightful; there was this incredibly helpful couple who actually agreed to lend us a cellphone when we needed to call SAS (the bloody bloodsuckers) to get our tickets fixed, and stayed with us and afterwards advised us of the choices we could have recourse to. we also stayed in this absolutely divine albeit also rather expensive little hotel-- the Christian IV, named for King Christian IV (no prizes if you guessed that right). it was 5 storeys high and had an old-fashioned elevator that could fit only three people and resembled nothing so much as a metal cage, with concomitant (hidden) metal grating much like the type you'd expect to see in a REALLY old-fashioned hotel. our room was on the 5th floor and reminded me exceedingly of mr bean's tiny brit room complete with the exact same window (i don't know if you're thinking of what i'm thinking). the hotel staff were incredibly friendly, and i developed an exceedingly sweet tooth after trying a genuine danish pastry for the first time ever. we visited rosenborg slot right next to the hotel, where i finally realised that when my dad had insisted repeatedly that "luo shen bao" was in the middle of copenhagen he had NOT been referring to luxembourg. the sprawling gardens left me bedazzled and overawed but the highlight of the grounds-- the castle and the treasury-- left me terribly underwhelmed. i wanted wild sweeping ranges of grass and sky; i couldn't even begin to fathom why the royals, who could have had anything and everything they wanted, would have chosen to cloister themselves in low stuffy rooms filled with far too much to be called anything but clutter, never mind the gold and baubles and all. i also dragged my parents up and down Assistens Kirkegård hunting for Andersen's grave; i found Bohr's as well. Worth it, despite the glares my parents kept giving me.

we also did the requisite touristy trippy things like going to see the little mermaid on her birthday, wandering to tivoli gardens and sofo, and visiting the amalienborg castles and failing to catch sight of royalty. we paused to take in the truly magnificent Frederikskirken, possibly the only church that could awe even my heathen soul, and stopped by the danish museum of art and design. almost invariably the close of each day would find us drinking 40kr cups of tea opposite the royal copenhagen watching buskers ranging from amusing mimes to lonely erhu players (particularly poignant) to a pair of brilliant singers who'd first caught my ear by playing u2's with or without you, and then proceeded to further enrapture their audience with a cascada song ("baby you're all that i want, when i'm lying here in your arms"), your song, and wonderwall (again!). but for all that somehow i just felt that the longer i stayed in copenhagen the more the city seemed to be draining me dry. i would pick up a pen and not be able to write, open blogger in a browser and stare at an empty page. in the end after our plans to go to aarhus were derailed by ticket unavailability we flew back to sweden, after surmounting the humongous bitchfest that passed for sas customer service (which they had the nerve to charge us an extra 260sgd for. what the hell). the moment we landed i felt... relieved. alive. rejuvenated. copenhagen is-- was -- an emotional blackhole for me, for god only knows what reasons. it was like what one exasperated busker said, on the streets, "i don't know if it's the cold-- is that it, because winter is coming?-- or what, but i'm not feeling the energy i need here. this isn't just a one-man show. i have to feel something from you. should i just pack up and go? is that it? is that what you want?"

so very nirvana's teen spirit. here we are now, entertain us. such a rudderless city, that.

and such a long post, this. i'll update more about what i've been up to in uppsala another time. and maybe i'll finally get down to sticking a few pictures up, eh?
Posted at 1:44 AM