April 26 - Återvända Hem

I hate saying it because its more cliche than a Schwarzenegger film but we don't know what we've got until it's gone. So after the best part of 5 weeks away from Uppsala, it was only when I returned to the familiarity of Sweden and my new home town that I could truly appreciate it. And just for the record I do actually study here, even if the photos I post state otherwise. Besides, I'm a geography student so technically I could get away with traveling around Europe as being 'of high academic significance to my chosen field'. But more than the comfort of knowing the right bus or being surrounded again by a whitewash of dudes in skinny jeans, was the wicked feeling of seeing my fellow students again as I arrived back to my home away from home. The beauty of total immersion, like a student exchange, is the friendships you forge and the first thing that crossed my mind was the realisation I have only one short month left to hone my German skills for those card nights, and truly understand the Sweden I have come to love.

Spring in Uppsala

But before all of this there was something of infinitely greater importance at hand - food. In order to minimise losses to hungry flatmates, I carefully planned my cupboards to be virtually empty (save a can of mushrooms and a box of salt) by the time I left my flat back in March. But after traveling non stop from dublin to london to stockholm to uppsala without a decent meal, I began to question the genious behind this feat of organisation - not helped at all by the fact the local supermarket had half burned down the night before. But there was hope, and it came in the form of a chef for a flatmate who can do a wicked fryup, though I think more than anything this was just so I wouldn't be angry at him for the party that was currently taking place in my room.

Local kids playing at the lake

The next day I wasted no time in enjoying the new spring weather as we headed to the lake and rode the shoreline in search of the perfect spot to bust out a sweet picnic. And you know those old guys from the cheese ads are right - good things take time, and when we found a spot we set up camp and stayed as long as the length of the day itself allowed. So spring is now alive and kicking, but for the Swedes it's not enough to simply see the daffodils spring up and say "oh what splendid weather we're having". No, they have to bring it in in true style with Valborg. It's a tradition which dates back to pagan times and later became associated with the Sacred Valborg cult (after year 779), but all that it really means these days (at least to the student population) is party. Massive party.

The streets of Uppsala for Valborg

People come here from all over Sweden, and Europe, to race home made rafts down the river, spray each other with champagne, make traditionally and culturally powerful-but in Swedish-speeches, and generally have let loose with whatever it is they've been bottling up all year. Unfortunately for me it was in the middle of a patch of bad health but I still had the best seat in the house with my 4th floor room overlooking the park which boasted an outdoor concert - the noise from which put my windows through the ultimate strength test. Indeed Arnie would be proud.