Stockholm and McSickness

Hardly ‘morning pages’ today – it’s approaching 9pm and it’s the first chance I’ve had today to sneak a few moments when B’s on the phone to his sons and Monkey’s having a bath after a hectic day with one of his friends over. And I will no doubt have to set the timer on pause shortly when the smaller guy is ready for bed and needs to call his dad, and then by the bigger one so we can figure out what we’re going to do for dinner, if anything at all. I’m just not hungry.

*** Oh, and here’s the little one now, gorgeous little mite. ***

Because Monkey and his friend wanted to visit their favourite eating establishment, lunch was McDonalds and I still feel a little sick. Don’t get me wrong, I love McDonalds, but only before I’ve actually had it. On occasion, I can get a real craving for it and I’ll be standing there ordering from the menu consisting of dodgy meat and sugar laden stuff. And it does taste good, sometimes even bloody delicious, but without fail, I end up feeling awful afterwards. No wonder my body protests, I don’t even want to think about what that stuff actually consists of, but I suspect every single one of those cows and chickens that end up getting processed into identical shapes probably didn’t have a good life.

Amazing how dark it is already. It doesn’t seem that long ago that B and I were sitting outsite at Falla, my dad’s retreat in Sweden, with a glass of wine and broad daylight at 11pm. OK, so that’s Sweden and different from here, but still. Oh well, roll on autumn, I’m sure it’ll be a great one and I do like the cold and the dark. Any reason to drink mulled wine and wear oversized scarves gets a big thumbs up from me. And we’re off to Stockholm next weekend, which is a nice way of stepping into the fall.

*** Oh, and here’s the big one now. And the little one too, having finished with his dad on the phone. ***

Right, Monkey’s in bed, but not after trying to find fifty-eleven reasons to stay up and things he needed to do first, the little con artist. Dinner worked out, steak sandwich for me, and I’m just going to go with fast noodles as I’ve still not recovered from my McD-sickness.

So yes, Stockholm! B goes there quite regularly with work and sometimes I tag along. None of my family lives there, bar for a couple of cousins, and I haven’t spent much time there so it’s as new and unexplored to me as it is to B. In fact, I reckon he knows Stockholm much better than I do. Last time we visited the Abba museum, which is so bloody touristy it’s untrue, but hey, I’m a tourist there so it’s allowed. We did the hop-on-hop-off style bus tour too. This time we’re trying to find some amazing restaurant, but Google wasn’t much help, nor was TripAdvisor. I only really know of the places I used to book for the board at the last company I worked for, and we’re after unique and/or quirky rather than super posh.

There’s one that was recommended to me that I really want to try, called ‘Djuret’ – literally means ‘the animal’. They only serve one type of animal at a time, then move on to something else, so the menu is apparently always different. Looks really lovely from the pictures, but online it wasn’t possible to book – I have a feeling it’s the kind of place you have to book weeks in advance, but going to call them tomorrow. Last time we improvised and ended up eating on this pontoon (Stockholm is just really a cluster of islands so you’re always near the water), which was pretty nice. The risk you take if you don’t plan, is to end up in something equivalent to UK tourist traps like crappy Angus Steakhouse style places.

The other one B really wants to go to is ‘Gondolen’ (‘the gondola’), but I’m scared of heights so not sure I’ll feel relaxed dining 30 metres from the ground suspended in the air. Looks good though, and it’s another one that I’ve booked for board dinners in the past so that’s enough reference to pretty much guarantee good food. Would imagine it’s eye wateringly expensive though, Sweden’s not the place to go out if you’re watching the pennies, with a bottle of beer usually costing at least £6 in your average bar.

Last time we went was one of those times I laughed so much with B I nearly wet myself. We were having a good, old snog – properly making out like teenagers – and I think I must have moved my head a little. B, eyes closed, went back in and got my nose. All of it. In a passionate kiss. I’ve teased him about his nose fetish ever since.

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