Öland, Midsummer June 1999
Öland, Midsummer June 1999
What a great time this was, the celebration of midsummer!! Actually, it turned out to be pretty much a drunk fest near the city of Bergholm on Öland. The celebration of midsummer out here on the island consisted mostly of youths looking for a night of crazy partying. The typical swedish midsummer pole was almost no where in attendance(this saddened me) and the only singing done was to draw another beer or shot of vodka. However, midsummer day was eventful.
The day began with Mikael Bonora picking me up at Malmö Central Station and then driving to Ronneby, where Magnus Ingvarson was added to our expedition. To further round out our force we picked up Michiel Arnoldus at Kalmar before driving across the bridge to Öland and the unexpected fate of drunken merriment and joviality. After finding a campsite we proceeded to open our beer and lay up our tents. Amidst this hustle and bustle began the meeting of our various negihbours, the Ragara group with ragabil(old car) to our south, the young partiers from south of Göteborg to our west and the boring Stockholmers to our North, to our east lay a hedge that, after being subsequently used as a pissoir, blocked us from meeting any eastern neighbours.
So, after drinking a little and making some new aquaintances began the football, and then more drinking, and then supper. And of course what a supper, whoo boy, two or three cold tiny potatoes and one or two pieces of sill (which were of course bought from the well-known, Matex, the world’s cheapest supermarket-"mat är billigare i ronneby, du vet").
And then there was more drinking and sharing of spirits, or dare I should say borrowing, with other campers. AFter wandering around and meeting our neighbours a little more personally magne managed to excite one dear old chap a little bit too much and the following commotion almost resulted in the throwing of a few knuckle sandwiches. However, due to the hapful intervention of a neighbouring saintly lass, Magne managed to avoid having to catch fists and return them. Then around 2100 hrs, of us four, three managed to grab the bus into Borgholm proper to visit the street festivities and hit on the girls (the fourth of us having disappeared out of sight with other campers.)
Thus the three of us left: Mikael, Michiel, and I began our city festivities of dancing, drinking, hitting on the ladies, and of course, making enquiries into the whereabouts of our fourth companion. "Excuse me, we´re looking for Magnus? Have you seen him? He has blonde hair and blue eyes and he's about this tall. - Are you sure? - Well, okay, thanks for your help." But, before the enquiries began I, of course being my absolutely brilliant self, bought a lovely rose and gave it to some perfect stranger(well, I thought she was rather good looking) Then to top the evening off, Mikael later began the glass crashing, first smashing our Champage bottle, and then jumping on every beer bottle he came across, sending the bottles into thousands of spinning shards across the pavement.
The night finally ended with gallons of rain splashing down over our reeling minds and, seeking the shelter of home, we grabbed a taxi(mind you not a springtaxi, unfortunately) and returned to find one of our tents blown down, full of water, with Magne being completely stoned and soaked by the rain, sitting alone (looking more miserable than those poor African children who are starving) in the middle of the night on his tent.
Since I had been distracted by some young ladies with food, I was not on location for the supervised relocation co-ordination efforts of Michiel and Mikael moving Magnus into the remaining three man tent with themselves. Of course, Mikael and Michiel were unable to complete the night without puking their guts out before falling into the arms of Morpheus, the goddess of sleep.
Upon my arrival, finding no place to sleep and no car keys, I again used my stunning intellect and climbed into a tree to sleep a fitfull four hours before the sun rose and began to roast out my already severely dehydrated body.
The morning after passed in sleep for me of course, while the other guys went and had a wonderful breakfast. They even sat with King Magne and were additionally involved in a pretty stupid argument, with our Swedish buddy/drunk friend, about languages.
Once I was able to wake up, we took a little side trip in the late afternoon across the flat island to the site of a ruined church and graveyard. Upon this place we arrayed ourselves around a small maypole, finishing our co-memoration of midsummer. That evening we watched magnus drink a little on his own before retiring ourselves to a badly needed night of rest.
The next day we awoke alive and began the day listening to the greatest lyrics we have ever heard "the king is a king, and the peasant is a peasant, (pause) KING CHEESE!!). We quickly discovered that the song was about Magnus, since our king of the peasants would not willingly take the mornings breakfast with us. Finally we packed up and we returned Magne to his home in Ronneby, soemwhat alive to his parents delight and Mikael carried both Michiel and I to Malmö from where we continued our weekend adventure over into Copenhagen, Denmark.
back