Älmhult, Sweden - Polarsteps

We had a nice lie-in in Martin's cute apartment. Olivier appointed me the authoritarian leader a couple of days ago, and I used it this morning to full effect, commanding him to pack the cart, clean the dishes, wash the tiles in the bathroom, and clean the skirting board with his toothbrush (before using it). Damn, it feels good to be a gangster. The Swedish weather is absolutely suicidally shit. It has been raining for 24 hours now, and cold to boot. We walked for a couple of hours in the freezing downpour down a beautiful wooded lane. I stopped to pee in the bushes and my thermal leggings became full of twigs and seeds. There was a rushing water feature where a moose might appear - it did not. Yet. The promise of meese is one of the few things keeping us going at this point. In a Swedish supermarket we discovered a salad paste covered in both shrimp and strawberries. When we arrived in Osby Brosby Nobsy we stopped in a bus shelter to get our bearings and book the Airbnb for tonight - a room in the very birthplace of modern man, the ultimate mass-production Mecca, Älmhult - the location of the first IKEA. ~ She's been cheating on me in a furniture store, so IKEA car ~ After an excruciatingly long and wet walk, we arrive. We get to the place and assemble ourselves in front of a red hot fireplace. Everything in the house is suspiciously tasteful at first glance - the hallmark of a shrine to IKEA -and a shrine it was, down to the last Djungelskög atop Källax. We recovered just enough to drag ourselves out to IKEA 001, to feast on meatballs. It was exceptionally delicious. We got back to the house and Olivier made a curry, and we immediately had our second dinner. The chicken was a bit tangy so we fantasized about getting food poisoning tomorrow morning and thus not having to walk. We polished off the last of the cheap German vodka and watched an episode of Queer Eye. Another job jobbed.