måndag 3 mars 2014

TW: Veni Vidi Avicii, part 1

 Some trigger warnings apply for mental health, social anxiety, drug use, and alcohol.

First of all, I want to send thanks to the two of my uncles who made all this into a Thing To Do. We met up with one of them in Stockholm, but I'll tell that story later on.

This past weekend I was in Stockholm, and I was supposed to go and see Avicii live, but circumstances kind of made that not happen. All in all, it was a great weekend, even though there was one instance that very nearly ruined it.


We (Boy, my sister, sister's girlfriend, and me) left Trollhättan around noon Thursday 27 February and the train was so packed with people, it was hard to breathe. All four of us had to stand up for the first forty minutes of our journey, and I felt like I had been drenched in something cold and sticky. The train to Gothenburg was fifteen minutes late, so as usual, I started to fret about food and schedules and making the next train departure. People who know me take this in stride, usually, and I do try to control my flailing urges. Traveling with three people who are more or less low on blood sugar is an experience. A very trying experience. It didn't get better with the complete lack of knowledge of the concept of HURRY UP the lady at Burger King exuded. We made the train with just minutes to spare and had to eat our food on the train instead of at the station.

There aren't that many things a legally adult person can do on a train without the rest of the passengers frowning or complaining, so I entertained myself with flash games on my phone, napping, and terrorizing my sister and her girlfriend with my camera. I managed to capture this really nice photo, though.

 That's my sister on the left and her girlfriend on the right.

After much getting lost and wondering where we were going, we finally got to Columbus Loft Hotels, and let me tell you, you have not lived until you've stayed in a hotel where the stone steps in the stair case have been worn down by use and the doorways taking you from the staircase to the different floors have actual wrought iron doors.

Courtyard outside the entrance to the hotel

 Hallway on the second floor. Our room was on the third floor.

We had an actual KEY. None of that slidey card stuff.

Wine cellar slash breakfast room in the hotel basement.

We were greeted by a very nice lady when we checked in. My overall impression of the staff of this hotel is one of utmost professionalism, care for the guests, and welcoming feelings. I was very impressed by every staff member we encountered. 
The beds were very comfortable and I slept like I was dead the first night, despite people making a racket in the hallway. I suffer from motion sickness while riding on a train or flying. I absolutely have to face the direction train is traveling if I want to avoid feeling sick. As it were, I was only stuck with reliving the motion of the train, but that vanished as I slept.

The next morning, Boy and I woke up at 7.30 am and went down to breakfast. And what a breakfast. Perfectly brewed coffee, yummy fruit juices, home made jams and preserves. Home made granola to have with yoghurt or sour milk. I had ciabatta bread with smoked turkey, cheese and veggies, soft boiled egg, coffee, yoghurt with granola and strawberry jam, and Brie all three mornings.

Bread baskets and home made jam

Boy and I also met up with a gaming friend that morning, and my jaws ached from laughing so much once he left to get his hair cut. Meeting friends you've only talking to online can be awkward, but I didn't feel that at all. It was great!

Isn't he just adorable?

After breakfast, Boy and I just hung around at the hotel, watching standup comedy, reading fan fiction, and chilling. I took a nap, then we fled the room so the over-enthusiastic cleaning crew could do their job. Two cups of coffee and about ten cookies later, we made our way back to the hotel room to get ready for meeting Uncle Stefan for dinner.

This is when things started to get uncomfortable. We had tickets to go and see Avicii that night. Now, I am not that fascinated by this DJ and I really feel that DJs belong in clubs, not in a regular concert venue. My opinion is that their skill gets lost in a regular concert setting. DJs belong in dimly lit, sparkling strobe light clubs, people dancing and generally not giving a hoot as to what they look like. Maybe that's just me.

My sister was her regular going-to-be-late self and I was completely freaking out. I cannot handle being late. I just can't. My anxiety hits almost panicky heights if I think that I am going to be late.

Suddenly, I had a lap full of overzealous woman demanding beer and change in music and to check her Facebook, and she was just all over the place.  I am thoroughly impressed by the guy manning the reception and the way he refused to give in to this woman's general rudeness. It didn't help that she belonged to our party. I felt embarrassed to even be associated with her. Sadly, it didn't stop there.
 
We went to a restaurant named "Hjördis" (same name as my paternal grandmother), a really nice little place with delicious food and good wine. And this woman was flailing, poking, stealing drinks from everyone at the table but me (only because I managed to move my wine glass out of her reach), and cursing. It went so far as it triggered a panic attack in me just as we were about to leave. I have no memories of anything between waiting in line to grab my coat and standing outside the restaurant, crying into Boy's shirt. I know someone brought me my coat and I remember my sister and my uncle petting my shoulders as I cried. Boy and I went back to the hotel, and the others went to the concert. I enjoyed a nice cup of tea and some cookies before my exhausted mind grabbed me by the proverbial collar and dragged me into dream land.

TBC with stroll through Old Town and the trip home.




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