A Scandinavian Summer Part I
- theblondchampagne
- Jul 21, 2014
- 2 min read
Fortunately, I have been blessed with the talent to select friends that own summer homes in Sweden. With this working greatly to my advantage, I have recently packed my bags and departed from Canada to the lavish, socialist country to eat, drive in boats, and work on my Scandinavian tan. Although my ability to choose such a friend was actually just luck (she was cool before I knew about her European life,) my life has been opened to some pretty wicked opportunities thanks to her.
Apart from getting to live on an island in Sweden all summer, the two of us are running a café for the fellow summer home owners. That means espresso and homemade baking all day, everyday. I understand I may have just thrown a curve ball in there; one minute I’m sailing around the Baltic Sea, and then next I’m organizing a small business. Long story short, it’s great for the resume!

As much as I’m loving life overseas, I have to be real; we have had too many problems to keep track of (most due to my clumsiness).
Day 1: cut my finger with an exactoknife; got 4 stitches
Still Day 1: dropped a kitchen cabinet on my toe during installation
Day 3: Airbag exploded in my face
Day 4: flood in the café
Day 5: caught a couple of thieves red handed

Despite all of the wide range of problems we have encountered I have developed an obsession for this country that is completely unexplainable. I want to speak Swedish, I want to eat Swedish food, I want to live here all my life, I want the blonde Swedish hair and the long tanned legs. Basically I just want to be Swedish. No one can explain my fascination, but I am bound and determined to be one of them.

The Swedish lifestyle is one of which I would highly encourage to be experienced by all. With free post-secondary education, 21 hours of sunlight a day during the summer and a slew of dinner parties attended by all, you can’t go wrong. My Swedish summer has evolved into a smorgasbord of chaos, injuries, yet pure bliss all at once. So as I sit here sipping on my third espresso of the day contemplating what injury I could possibly incur next, I invite you to follow me through my journey in the land that is home to Abba, IKEA, and most importantly, Absolut Vodka.
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