Sweden I

So I woke up on Saturday and went down to the front desk to ask for another night. The guy said they were fully booked but I could wait around and see if anything opened up. Which was a problem for 2 reasons: (1) There was a chance I could end up on the street if nothing opened up and (2) All the hostels in Oslo were booked, so if I couldn't get a room I was going to have to go somewhere else, and all of the trains from Oslo to anywhere outside of Norway were leaving within an hour and a half. Needless to say, I was in a bit of a panic.

Now my choices for leaving Norway were to go to Copenhagen or Stockholm. Both cities had no hostel rooms available, only expensive hotel rooms. So my only option was to book a hotel and break the bank or take a night train from Copenhagen to Amsterdam, which would give me a bed to sleep on for the night. Fortunately, I thought of something else.

There was a Swedish guy in my 4th grade class named Joakim Hagstrom. I remembered him only because he had a funny name and moved in the middle of the school year. I got in touch with him on Facebook a few months ago and mentioned I might be coming to Stockholm in the fall. I went onto Facebook and realized he had given me his phone number. So, with an hour to go before the only Stockholm-bound train of the day left, I called Joakim on Skype, apologized profusely for waking him up so early, and asked him if I could stay with him tonight. Amazingly, he said yes. Without a moment's hesitation, I threw my stuff in the suitcase, checked out, and booked it full-speed to the train station. I caught the train about 5 minutes before it left.

Joakim met me at the train station and took me back to his apartment. He didn't really remember me from school (we weren't ever friends, we were just in the same class) but it was cool to hear what he had been up to the last few years. He cooked an amazing dinner for both of us and then gave me some directions on how to get to the center of the Stockholm nightlife. Since he had work the next morning, I headed out alone to navigate the metro.

The center of the non-touristy bar scene is in the south part of downtown, a neighborhood called Sodermalm. It consists of a long strip of shops and bars and a big town square (pardon the lame adjectives--I'm not so good with descriptions). I went into the first bar that looked fun, grabbed a beer, and went up to some fun looking Australians to strike up a conversation. Scottie, Wade, and Bruce were a pair of Aussies and a Kiwi, all of whom came out to Sweden to visit and then never left (I've met a surprising number of people in Stockholm with a similar story). They all live in an apartment together on the outside of town. They were already a few drinks in and asked me if I wanted to join their table (which meant buying every 4th round of drinks). I gladly accepted and hung out with them for the rest of the night.

A few drinks in, the 4 of us decided to start telling people we were in a band called Pink Jeans--the thinking apparently was that it would impress a couple girls that Wade had his eye on. When I told them I was a musician, they were so impressed they told me they had an extra bed and actually asked me to come live with them. I was stoked and said I would spend the first night in the hostel I had already booked and then take them up on the offer.

After several hours of jovial partying, I headed out, figuring I should allow myself enough time to navigate the subway back to where I was staying so I wouldn't get stuck somewhere really late at night. I made it back fine and crashed on a mattress Joakim provided for me. Unfortunately, because my phone doesn't work in Sweden and Skype has been dodgy, I haven't been able to get ahold of those Aussies since.