(no subject)
Aug. 1st, 2007 06:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
eiffel_71I flew from Gatwick to Stockholm with Sterling, a Danish low-cost carrier. We boarded the plane only a couple of minutes behind schedule, but then we just sat on the runway for half an hour. Eventually we were told over the tannoy that we were being held to allow other planes to take off first. When we did get airborne, the flight went smoothly, though the safety demo was in Swedish only and the flight attendants only spoke Swedish, so the phrases I'd learned, including how to order food and drink, were rapidly called into action. We landed at 10.20pm Swedish time, then we had a very long wait by a motionless baggage carousel before it finally kicked into action. It was close to 11pm when I got to make my way out to the taxi rank.
The taxi driver was an Indian Swede, and had a mini TV on his dashboard showing a Bollywood film. It was a long way from Arlanda airport to my overnight hotel. To my surprise some of the motorway signs actually showed Oslo as a destination. The fare came to 545 kronor (£43): my Swedish money was all 50 kr notes. I could hardly tip the driver 5 kr (40p), so a 55 kr tip it had to be, which he was well pleased with.
It was 11.40 pm when I rolled up in the hotel reception, but I had no problem checking in. Straight to bed.
In the morning, the hotel breakfast Swedish style was a buffet including cold meat, slices of holey cheese, white and brown bread, and even a choice of a 4-minute boiled egg or an 8-minute one, plus some rather nice strawberry sour milk. Had a bit of fun getting a metro ticket. When I'd asked the lady in the station shop, in halting Swedish, if she had tickets for the metro, she'd said no. I tried the supermarket across the road - no luck. Back at the station, when a guard came to occupy the previously vacant booth, I asked him for a two zone ticket...and he advised me that it'd be cheaper in the station shop. Giving the lady another chance, this time I just said to her "SL, två zoner, tack". (SL, Stockholm Local, is the city's public transport system, its tickets being good for both metro and buses, like London. 'Tack' serves as both please and thank you, though in the latter sense you should extend it to 'tack så mycket' - thank you very much. If you're going to say several thank-yous in the same conversation, say the first one in full then 'tack', or 'tack-tack', will do for the others.) This time she sold me the tickets straight away.
At the city terminal I made for the Viking Line outlet to buy my bus ticket to the ferry at Kapellskär. Their web site had said the bus ride was 6 kr (45p); I wasn't really surprised when it turned out to be 55 kr (£4.20) instead, since I knew the bus journey lasted 40 minutes. As a Swede or Finn said to me (in English) as, after getting off the bus, we queued to board the ferry, "That was a long bus ride."
The ferry crossing to Mariehamn was most agreeable, thanks to sun, a pleasant sundeck bar, a pretty good singer who included Mrs Robinson and Living Next Door To Alice in his set, and a fine Swedish beer called Mariestad. An Irishman called John, who was well oiled, began talking to me. He said he thought he recognised me, said "You're from London, aren't you?" and asked if I'd been to Finland before. He shook my hand, said he hoped we could have a drink in Mariehamn, then promptly tried to tap me for 100 euro. I made my excuses and retreated to the sun deck.
Arriving at Mariehamn we stepped off the boat and walked along a corrugated metal tunnel. Walking straight down the Nothing To Declare channel, there were no border guards in sight.
My guest house was just a short walk from the harbour. After checking in and unpacking I went for a wander round the town. Of course, with Rockoff beginning the next day, the park where it was to be held was fenced off and buzzing with staff setting up. I told the girl in the ticket office who I was, that I'd sent them my money by post and that Kalle, the festival manager, had e-mailed me to say I could collect my ticket from there. She, understandably, wanted to see a printed copy of the e-mail. I asked her if Kalle was around but she didn't register.
I wandered around central Mariehamn but there didn't seem to be an internet cafe. With no choice but to leave the ticket issue until the morning, I found a kebab shop, with a telly showing 'Dismissed' on MTV Sweden, and sat down to a delicious rullekebab med fetaost (wrap kebab with feta cheese).
My guesthouse, Kronan, was cheap and cheerful, run by a friendly family. The wife and daughter were appreciative of my persevering in speaking Swedish to them though they both spoke good English. The payphone, curiously, only swallowed Swedish coins, but the family would exchange you 10 kronor for a euro (the market rate is nine and a bit).
Next morning I checked out Mariehamn library where, joy, there was free internet access and I was able to print Kalle's e-mail, saving myself from shelling out 75 euro on a fresh ticket. Having had my festival pass, in the form of a wristband, clipped around my wrist, I got on with exploring the delights of downtown Mariehamn.
Since one of my reasons for coming to Åland was to find music by local artistes, from which to choose an Åland entry to the 2008 Global Alternative Song Contest, my first port of call was Metro Records. Helpfully, there was a rack devoted to Åland artists, which included two CDs released this year and sung in Swedish. I snapped both up. (A few days later, in the other record shop Kalmers, I picked up a single by Åland rapper Fryk).
Next I made for the Cafe Julius - you can't visit Åland and not try an Åland pancake! This is entirely unlike an English pancake. It's a thick, flat, rectangular cake made from semolina or rice pudding, and topped with whipped cream plus strawberry or raspberry jam (stewed prunes are traditional, but have been largely ousted by jam). Very tasty!
Åland can feel like a separate country. All the souvenirs say Åland, none say Finland, and you won't see any Finnish flags (apart from a few on offer in a little corner of one of the gift shops) but the Åland flag is everywhere. It even has its own car numberplates. The language is Swedish and Åland is influenced by Sweden to a degree. Swedish pop stars dominate the record shops' racks, and nearly all the acts at Rockoff were from Sweden. Students from Åland go to university in Sweden. The Swedish krona circulates freely alongside the euro and shop receipts show the total in both. Ålanders prefer to watch TV from Sweden : the communal telly in my guest house offered all four of Sweden's main channels, plus Sweden's 24-hour news and children's channels and MTV Sweden. It also carried Eurosport, Discovery Channel, Animal Planet and Cartoon Network - but didn't have Finland's Swedish-language station, 5ST.
There was just the odd thing to remind you you were in Finland. The packaging on food, drink and toiletries was in Finnish, as was the wording on the cold drinks machine in my guest house. You'd see the occasional .fi website address on adverts, windows and buses. The Finnish newspapers, in Finnish, sat alongside those from Åland and Sweden on news stands. There were a few bilingual signs, albeit an extremely small few (if signs carried a second language at all, it was more likely to be English than Finnish). Although there is a beer brewed in Åland, called Stallhagen, the most popular beer in Mariehamn is a Finnish one, Lapin Kulta.
One curiosity : on one of the main roads, Storgatan, the pavement is divided in half by a white line - cyclists one side, pedestrians the other.
My two favourite acts at Rockoff bookended the festival. On the opening night the headline was an all-girl rock band, Sahara Hotnights. They were worth the trip to Mariehamn on their own! Their driving catchy guitar pop-rock had me hooked from beginning to end. Next morning saw me back at Metro buying their CD. And the final night began with legendary Swedish diva, known to me from Eurovision, Nanne Grönwall. She was a magnificent singer, entertainer and performer. Her hour-long set had everything - infectious pop songs, beautiful ballads, impressive costumes, spectacle and humour.
Others I really liked:
Finnish rock chick Hanna Pakarinen, who brought a lot of her fans over from the mainland, some of whom carried a large Finnish flag. Her song from this year's Eurovision, Leave Me Alone, drove the whole crowd wild.
Oh Laura, a pop-rock group with a pretty female singer who sang as though butter wouldn't melt in her mouth one song and socked it to you with attitude the next. When she strode from the stage and along the raised walkway it was breathtaking. Back to Metro Records next morning for their CD!
Andreas Johnson, uptempo pop-rock singer. I actually bought his CD before his performance: passing by the festival park on my return from the sightseeing tour, 6 hours before he was on, I heard his latest song playing over the tannoy, immediately loved it and bombed straight down to Metro.
U2:NL - as you can guess, a Dutch U2 tribute band. They provided the grand finale of the festival, but were less popular with the crowd than some of the other acts - there was a trickle of people leaving during their set, but I thought they were very good and a big gathering of U2 fans at the front were appreciative.
In between the performances by the main acts we had sets from some covers bands, all of whom were as mad as a dog in a bungalow. My favourite was De Hänsynfulla, who got a big thumbs up from me for including Summer of '69 in all their sets, and made frequent references to Red Bull (who had a promotion stall there) including drinking it onstage. Farbror Fläsk ('Uncle Pork') were popular with the crowd: their repertoire ranged from Pink Floyd to Lynyrd Skynyrd to Bob Marley to the Beastie Boys, and on the final night they got everyone singing along with a rocking guitar rendition of Karma Chameleon. They always included a couple of Elvis numbers, one of which was always Suspicious Minds, and often announced at the end of their set 'Elvis has left the building'. Jan's Addiction did a lot of songs I liked but had a bit of difficulty with lyrics : during both I'll Be There For You and My Favourite Waste Of Time their singer filled out all the verses by singing the four lines he knew over and over. Their rendition of She Took Off My Romeo changed one line to 'That fucking little woman took off my Romeo' - even when, one day, they were being broadcast live on the radio at 4.10 pm. In Missionary Man they changed 'There'd be a mountain of money right up to my chin' to 'There'd be a mountain of shit hanging off of my skin'. The maddest of all were Donald's Diving Ducks, who played heavy metal covers with a banjo and whose singer made endless jokes based around pronunciation of the word 'fork'. They had the best count-in routine of them all : 'Eins, zwei, Polizei!'
Memorable sights included a hen night party, with the bride actually wearing a wedding veil with her white jacket and skirt, and all the others wearing Miss World sashes with the bride's new married name on; a woman celebrating her 40th birthday wearing a sash made from a bedsheet with 'Miss 40' on the front and 'Sag Grattis' (say congratulations) on the back; and Blowsight, a powerpop boyband, playing a hard powerpop cover of Britney's Toxic. For a few days during Rockoff the Tall Ships called at Mariehamn; on the first night of their visit the crowd was swelled by seamen from Germany, Mexico, Norway and Russia. The Germans sang a German drinking song (or possibly sea shanty) over the top of one of the acts' closing song! Free bags of crisps were handed out most nights courtesy of Ålandsbanken, in the hope we'd be persuaded to open mobile-phone bank accounts with them. I got given a packet on three different nights; the last time I actually received two, from different people.
There were intervals in the schedule, which got extended when, as often happened, a main act was late coming on. At first I filled these gaps drinking Lapin Kulta, though as it was 5.5 euro a half-litre in the festival area, by the closing days, when funds were lower, I passed the time by thinking of trios of women I admire, or trios of women with some kind of link (eg they were all on the same TV show, or were the cast of The Vagina Monologues in Southampton) and playing a mental solo game of 'Cruise, Marry, Shag' (thank you, Gavin And Stacey).
Away from Rockoff, I went for a sightseeing tour on a red London bus (which still had 'N50 - Maida Vale' on the front and, nostalgically for me, '25 - Oxford Circus' on the back). The young lady guide told us how Mariehamn was founded in 1861 by the Russian Czar Alexander II, who, to create an impressive town, ordered that all houses be made of stone, but had to compromise as many of the residents were poor fishermen who could only afford wood. The bus took us past such sights as the renowned Navigation College, the fishing port and the Island of Hazelnuts, while the guide peppered her commentary with trivia about Åland. Fascinating stuff.
I investigated the football ground of IFK Mariehamn, currently bottom of the Finnish premier league (so please keep your fingers crossed that their fortunes improve). Sadly they didn't have a home match when I was there, though at the ground I spotted a couple of guys in tracksuits who looked like they might be players.
I met up with Torbjörn Engman when he visited Mariehamn on the second Thursday (he lives in Kumlinge on one of the other islands) and bought him a Lapin Kulta as promised. Torbjörn was very interested in the Global Alternative Song Contest and how it had led me to both discover his music and come to Åland. He seemed a bit disappointed that the GASC just consists of sending tapes to voters, not an actual Eurovision-style stage show - I think he rather fancied the idea of stepping out on an international stage and singing for Åland live. I agreed with him that that would be a great idea and it was a shame that our little international group of volunteer music-lovers doesn't have a multi-million TV budget at its disposal. Music is Torbjörn's lifelong passion: he's a huge Rolling Stones fan and told me all about seeing their live show in Helsinki in 2003. Telling me his life story - born on Kumlinge, he's been back there a while now after living on the Finnish mainland and in New York, and was married to an American lady for 28 years until they recently parted, hence his excellent English with an American accent - he mentioned that for a while his main business was his fish farm. He still has the fish farm but his principal concern is now his recording studio. That led him to mention that Ian Anderson of Jethro Tull is a successful fish farmer and that he, Torbjörn, is going to fulfil a lifetime's wish when he sees Jethro Tull live in Finland in September. That will leave just one act still to tick off on his 'must see live' list: Eric Clapton.
Friday I took the bus to the Viking Market in Saltvik. This was a fascinating reconstruction of a Viking village, with a charcoal-burner, helmeted warriors, buxom wenches and a longship, plus musicians playing old Nordic folk tunes on medieval instruments. There were lots of handicraft stalls, many of which, bizarrely, had a sideline of one food item. I was fascinated by a lady selling rune staffs, perpetual calendars marked in runes on long pieces of wood which also had metal studs to mark six inches and a foot. "If you see any in centimetres," she told me, "they're fake. The Vikings didn't have centimetres." I didn't have 32 euro on me so took a leaflet with her website address. Alas, I won't be buying one any time soon after all, for reasons that will soon become clear...
For lunch I went for a 'Grillad Gris' - some traditionally-grilled meat with vegetables in a wrap - for 5 euro, very tasty. Then I made a dreadful mistake. I stopped by a stall advertising, among other delights, 'Frejas Goda Kola'. Thinking it would be a cola-style drink I asked for some, paid my 1 euro and was handed a bag of toffee. 'Kola', it turns out, is Swedish for toffee, and this stuff was hard and chewy.
The second piece I ate ripped a lump out of one of my teeth.
That leaves me facing a dentist's bill at the worst possible time - I haven't paid for most of this holiday yet and I'm starting counselling sessions in a few weeks. Thanks to that bloody toffee ('Goda Kola'??) the prospect of hard times loomed. Worse, since Friday eating has been agony as my tongue is constantly forced onto the sharp broken point or edge.
I'm delighted I went to Åland, though. It's a wonderful place and perfect for getting away from it all. There's so much there that I wasn't able to see and do this time that I'm definitely going back, in autumn 2008 or spring 2009. I do have to find an entry for GASC 2009, after all.
At 11.45 on Monday morning, 9.45 in Britain, an hour and a quarter before my ferry sailed, I phoned my dentist's from the guest house. They gave me an appointment on Friday at 12.35, so I rang my office - my call was answered by Jane - to say I won't be at work on Friday. At least I'm not using all my holiday entitlement this year so the lost day's wages will just come out of my excess hours bonus in January or March.
Monday evening, back at the hotel in Stockholm, passed quietly and agreeably enough thanks to hours of American sitcoms on two Swedish TV channels.
The flight home yesterday was less peaceful, with a couple of fidgety kids who occasionally burst into wailing fits near me, plus a family who'd got on at the last minute so had to sit apart, meaning they were constantly getting up and walking up the plane to see each other. I was glad to have Andy Sloan's book 23 Sweet FAs to read, and to see the trolley come round to sell me a Tuborg for 39 of my last 49 kronor.
But we landed ahead of schedule, and I'd cleared customs by 6.20 pm. On my way through arrivals, baggage and customs I looked around for the charity globe you can drop your shrapnel in, but didn't see it anywhere, so I still have a 10 kronor coin and a 5 euro cent coin. So on to the train home. And it was on the train ride home that I thought of what I had to do to avert a cash crisis.
Once I was done unpacking, I binned my ticket for Quins RL v Leeds Rhinos this Sunday. With a filling to pay for, a train fare to London, plus refreshments, just isn't on.
Back to work today. I went up to the telephone unit ten minutes early, and noticed the posters advertising for people wanted to do evening shifts were gone. I hoped that wasn't a bad sign. But when I spoke to Mary she said they were still looking for extra people on the evenings and she was delighted when I said I'd like to work every Monday evening from next month. There was a little hiccup as initially I said I'd like to do 3.30 till 8 - the posters had said you could finish early - but Mary said they wanted people to go all the way through to 9.30. Beggars can't be choosers so I agreed. It was they who were doing me a massive favour by letting me take another shift on, but they've clearly been short staffed in the evenings, as Mary gushed "thank you so much" and looked like she'd love me for ever for taking this extra shift on.
Lots of the ladies asked about my holiday. As Sue #1 passed me on her way in she said in a real sardonic voice "I bet you're glad to be back." After a little hiccup, when an old lady hung up on me because she "can't stand very long", I had a really busy shift with several big families. At 1.58, as I was getting ready to enter my payclaim and go, Heather #1 came over and said she'd been monitoring my last call. She asked if I'd come and sit with her to hear her feedback, then remembered I finish at 2 pm and offered to do it tomorrow instead, but I said "Let's do it now" and explained that with my holiday still to be paid for, I was glad to count any extra time! She found no fault with my interviewing; on our way to the bit of the room where she'd led me, she'd picked up my postcard from the wall, and before long she was asking me all about my holiday, on what was officially monitoring time...
The taxi driver was an Indian Swede, and had a mini TV on his dashboard showing a Bollywood film. It was a long way from Arlanda airport to my overnight hotel. To my surprise some of the motorway signs actually showed Oslo as a destination. The fare came to 545 kronor (£43): my Swedish money was all 50 kr notes. I could hardly tip the driver 5 kr (40p), so a 55 kr tip it had to be, which he was well pleased with.
It was 11.40 pm when I rolled up in the hotel reception, but I had no problem checking in. Straight to bed.
In the morning, the hotel breakfast Swedish style was a buffet including cold meat, slices of holey cheese, white and brown bread, and even a choice of a 4-minute boiled egg or an 8-minute one, plus some rather nice strawberry sour milk. Had a bit of fun getting a metro ticket. When I'd asked the lady in the station shop, in halting Swedish, if she had tickets for the metro, she'd said no. I tried the supermarket across the road - no luck. Back at the station, when a guard came to occupy the previously vacant booth, I asked him for a two zone ticket...and he advised me that it'd be cheaper in the station shop. Giving the lady another chance, this time I just said to her "SL, två zoner, tack". (SL, Stockholm Local, is the city's public transport system, its tickets being good for both metro and buses, like London. 'Tack' serves as both please and thank you, though in the latter sense you should extend it to 'tack så mycket' - thank you very much. If you're going to say several thank-yous in the same conversation, say the first one in full then 'tack', or 'tack-tack', will do for the others.) This time she sold me the tickets straight away.
At the city terminal I made for the Viking Line outlet to buy my bus ticket to the ferry at Kapellskär. Their web site had said the bus ride was 6 kr (45p); I wasn't really surprised when it turned out to be 55 kr (£4.20) instead, since I knew the bus journey lasted 40 minutes. As a Swede or Finn said to me (in English) as, after getting off the bus, we queued to board the ferry, "That was a long bus ride."
The ferry crossing to Mariehamn was most agreeable, thanks to sun, a pleasant sundeck bar, a pretty good singer who included Mrs Robinson and Living Next Door To Alice in his set, and a fine Swedish beer called Mariestad. An Irishman called John, who was well oiled, began talking to me. He said he thought he recognised me, said "You're from London, aren't you?" and asked if I'd been to Finland before. He shook my hand, said he hoped we could have a drink in Mariehamn, then promptly tried to tap me for 100 euro. I made my excuses and retreated to the sun deck.
Arriving at Mariehamn we stepped off the boat and walked along a corrugated metal tunnel. Walking straight down the Nothing To Declare channel, there were no border guards in sight.
My guest house was just a short walk from the harbour. After checking in and unpacking I went for a wander round the town. Of course, with Rockoff beginning the next day, the park where it was to be held was fenced off and buzzing with staff setting up. I told the girl in the ticket office who I was, that I'd sent them my money by post and that Kalle, the festival manager, had e-mailed me to say I could collect my ticket from there. She, understandably, wanted to see a printed copy of the e-mail. I asked her if Kalle was around but she didn't register.
I wandered around central Mariehamn but there didn't seem to be an internet cafe. With no choice but to leave the ticket issue until the morning, I found a kebab shop, with a telly showing 'Dismissed' on MTV Sweden, and sat down to a delicious rullekebab med fetaost (wrap kebab with feta cheese).
My guesthouse, Kronan, was cheap and cheerful, run by a friendly family. The wife and daughter were appreciative of my persevering in speaking Swedish to them though they both spoke good English. The payphone, curiously, only swallowed Swedish coins, but the family would exchange you 10 kronor for a euro (the market rate is nine and a bit).
Next morning I checked out Mariehamn library where, joy, there was free internet access and I was able to print Kalle's e-mail, saving myself from shelling out 75 euro on a fresh ticket. Having had my festival pass, in the form of a wristband, clipped around my wrist, I got on with exploring the delights of downtown Mariehamn.
Since one of my reasons for coming to Åland was to find music by local artistes, from which to choose an Åland entry to the 2008 Global Alternative Song Contest, my first port of call was Metro Records. Helpfully, there was a rack devoted to Åland artists, which included two CDs released this year and sung in Swedish. I snapped both up. (A few days later, in the other record shop Kalmers, I picked up a single by Åland rapper Fryk).
Next I made for the Cafe Julius - you can't visit Åland and not try an Åland pancake! This is entirely unlike an English pancake. It's a thick, flat, rectangular cake made from semolina or rice pudding, and topped with whipped cream plus strawberry or raspberry jam (stewed prunes are traditional, but have been largely ousted by jam). Very tasty!
Åland can feel like a separate country. All the souvenirs say Åland, none say Finland, and you won't see any Finnish flags (apart from a few on offer in a little corner of one of the gift shops) but the Åland flag is everywhere. It even has its own car numberplates. The language is Swedish and Åland is influenced by Sweden to a degree. Swedish pop stars dominate the record shops' racks, and nearly all the acts at Rockoff were from Sweden. Students from Åland go to university in Sweden. The Swedish krona circulates freely alongside the euro and shop receipts show the total in both. Ålanders prefer to watch TV from Sweden : the communal telly in my guest house offered all four of Sweden's main channels, plus Sweden's 24-hour news and children's channels and MTV Sweden. It also carried Eurosport, Discovery Channel, Animal Planet and Cartoon Network - but didn't have Finland's Swedish-language station, 5ST.
There was just the odd thing to remind you you were in Finland. The packaging on food, drink and toiletries was in Finnish, as was the wording on the cold drinks machine in my guest house. You'd see the occasional .fi website address on adverts, windows and buses. The Finnish newspapers, in Finnish, sat alongside those from Åland and Sweden on news stands. There were a few bilingual signs, albeit an extremely small few (if signs carried a second language at all, it was more likely to be English than Finnish). Although there is a beer brewed in Åland, called Stallhagen, the most popular beer in Mariehamn is a Finnish one, Lapin Kulta.
One curiosity : on one of the main roads, Storgatan, the pavement is divided in half by a white line - cyclists one side, pedestrians the other.
My two favourite acts at Rockoff bookended the festival. On the opening night the headline was an all-girl rock band, Sahara Hotnights. They were worth the trip to Mariehamn on their own! Their driving catchy guitar pop-rock had me hooked from beginning to end. Next morning saw me back at Metro buying their CD. And the final night began with legendary Swedish diva, known to me from Eurovision, Nanne Grönwall. She was a magnificent singer, entertainer and performer. Her hour-long set had everything - infectious pop songs, beautiful ballads, impressive costumes, spectacle and humour.
Others I really liked:
Finnish rock chick Hanna Pakarinen, who brought a lot of her fans over from the mainland, some of whom carried a large Finnish flag. Her song from this year's Eurovision, Leave Me Alone, drove the whole crowd wild.
Oh Laura, a pop-rock group with a pretty female singer who sang as though butter wouldn't melt in her mouth one song and socked it to you with attitude the next. When she strode from the stage and along the raised walkway it was breathtaking. Back to Metro Records next morning for their CD!
Andreas Johnson, uptempo pop-rock singer. I actually bought his CD before his performance: passing by the festival park on my return from the sightseeing tour, 6 hours before he was on, I heard his latest song playing over the tannoy, immediately loved it and bombed straight down to Metro.
U2:NL - as you can guess, a Dutch U2 tribute band. They provided the grand finale of the festival, but were less popular with the crowd than some of the other acts - there was a trickle of people leaving during their set, but I thought they were very good and a big gathering of U2 fans at the front were appreciative.
In between the performances by the main acts we had sets from some covers bands, all of whom were as mad as a dog in a bungalow. My favourite was De Hänsynfulla, who got a big thumbs up from me for including Summer of '69 in all their sets, and made frequent references to Red Bull (who had a promotion stall there) including drinking it onstage. Farbror Fläsk ('Uncle Pork') were popular with the crowd: their repertoire ranged from Pink Floyd to Lynyrd Skynyrd to Bob Marley to the Beastie Boys, and on the final night they got everyone singing along with a rocking guitar rendition of Karma Chameleon. They always included a couple of Elvis numbers, one of which was always Suspicious Minds, and often announced at the end of their set 'Elvis has left the building'. Jan's Addiction did a lot of songs I liked but had a bit of difficulty with lyrics : during both I'll Be There For You and My Favourite Waste Of Time their singer filled out all the verses by singing the four lines he knew over and over. Their rendition of She Took Off My Romeo changed one line to 'That fucking little woman took off my Romeo' - even when, one day, they were being broadcast live on the radio at 4.10 pm. In Missionary Man they changed 'There'd be a mountain of money right up to my chin' to 'There'd be a mountain of shit hanging off of my skin'. The maddest of all were Donald's Diving Ducks, who played heavy metal covers with a banjo and whose singer made endless jokes based around pronunciation of the word 'fork'. They had the best count-in routine of them all : 'Eins, zwei, Polizei!'
Memorable sights included a hen night party, with the bride actually wearing a wedding veil with her white jacket and skirt, and all the others wearing Miss World sashes with the bride's new married name on; a woman celebrating her 40th birthday wearing a sash made from a bedsheet with 'Miss 40' on the front and 'Sag Grattis' (say congratulations) on the back; and Blowsight, a powerpop boyband, playing a hard powerpop cover of Britney's Toxic. For a few days during Rockoff the Tall Ships called at Mariehamn; on the first night of their visit the crowd was swelled by seamen from Germany, Mexico, Norway and Russia. The Germans sang a German drinking song (or possibly sea shanty) over the top of one of the acts' closing song! Free bags of crisps were handed out most nights courtesy of Ålandsbanken, in the hope we'd be persuaded to open mobile-phone bank accounts with them. I got given a packet on three different nights; the last time I actually received two, from different people.
There were intervals in the schedule, which got extended when, as often happened, a main act was late coming on. At first I filled these gaps drinking Lapin Kulta, though as it was 5.5 euro a half-litre in the festival area, by the closing days, when funds were lower, I passed the time by thinking of trios of women I admire, or trios of women with some kind of link (eg they were all on the same TV show, or were the cast of The Vagina Monologues in Southampton) and playing a mental solo game of 'Cruise, Marry, Shag' (thank you, Gavin And Stacey).
Away from Rockoff, I went for a sightseeing tour on a red London bus (which still had 'N50 - Maida Vale' on the front and, nostalgically for me, '25 - Oxford Circus' on the back). The young lady guide told us how Mariehamn was founded in 1861 by the Russian Czar Alexander II, who, to create an impressive town, ordered that all houses be made of stone, but had to compromise as many of the residents were poor fishermen who could only afford wood. The bus took us past such sights as the renowned Navigation College, the fishing port and the Island of Hazelnuts, while the guide peppered her commentary with trivia about Åland. Fascinating stuff.
I investigated the football ground of IFK Mariehamn, currently bottom of the Finnish premier league (so please keep your fingers crossed that their fortunes improve). Sadly they didn't have a home match when I was there, though at the ground I spotted a couple of guys in tracksuits who looked like they might be players.
I met up with Torbjörn Engman when he visited Mariehamn on the second Thursday (he lives in Kumlinge on one of the other islands) and bought him a Lapin Kulta as promised. Torbjörn was very interested in the Global Alternative Song Contest and how it had led me to both discover his music and come to Åland. He seemed a bit disappointed that the GASC just consists of sending tapes to voters, not an actual Eurovision-style stage show - I think he rather fancied the idea of stepping out on an international stage and singing for Åland live. I agreed with him that that would be a great idea and it was a shame that our little international group of volunteer music-lovers doesn't have a multi-million TV budget at its disposal. Music is Torbjörn's lifelong passion: he's a huge Rolling Stones fan and told me all about seeing their live show in Helsinki in 2003. Telling me his life story - born on Kumlinge, he's been back there a while now after living on the Finnish mainland and in New York, and was married to an American lady for 28 years until they recently parted, hence his excellent English with an American accent - he mentioned that for a while his main business was his fish farm. He still has the fish farm but his principal concern is now his recording studio. That led him to mention that Ian Anderson of Jethro Tull is a successful fish farmer and that he, Torbjörn, is going to fulfil a lifetime's wish when he sees Jethro Tull live in Finland in September. That will leave just one act still to tick off on his 'must see live' list: Eric Clapton.
Friday I took the bus to the Viking Market in Saltvik. This was a fascinating reconstruction of a Viking village, with a charcoal-burner, helmeted warriors, buxom wenches and a longship, plus musicians playing old Nordic folk tunes on medieval instruments. There were lots of handicraft stalls, many of which, bizarrely, had a sideline of one food item. I was fascinated by a lady selling rune staffs, perpetual calendars marked in runes on long pieces of wood which also had metal studs to mark six inches and a foot. "If you see any in centimetres," she told me, "they're fake. The Vikings didn't have centimetres." I didn't have 32 euro on me so took a leaflet with her website address. Alas, I won't be buying one any time soon after all, for reasons that will soon become clear...
For lunch I went for a 'Grillad Gris' - some traditionally-grilled meat with vegetables in a wrap - for 5 euro, very tasty. Then I made a dreadful mistake. I stopped by a stall advertising, among other delights, 'Frejas Goda Kola'. Thinking it would be a cola-style drink I asked for some, paid my 1 euro and was handed a bag of toffee. 'Kola', it turns out, is Swedish for toffee, and this stuff was hard and chewy.
The second piece I ate ripped a lump out of one of my teeth.
That leaves me facing a dentist's bill at the worst possible time - I haven't paid for most of this holiday yet and I'm starting counselling sessions in a few weeks. Thanks to that bloody toffee ('Goda Kola'??) the prospect of hard times loomed. Worse, since Friday eating has been agony as my tongue is constantly forced onto the sharp broken point or edge.
I'm delighted I went to Åland, though. It's a wonderful place and perfect for getting away from it all. There's so much there that I wasn't able to see and do this time that I'm definitely going back, in autumn 2008 or spring 2009. I do have to find an entry for GASC 2009, after all.
At 11.45 on Monday morning, 9.45 in Britain, an hour and a quarter before my ferry sailed, I phoned my dentist's from the guest house. They gave me an appointment on Friday at 12.35, so I rang my office - my call was answered by Jane - to say I won't be at work on Friday. At least I'm not using all my holiday entitlement this year so the lost day's wages will just come out of my excess hours bonus in January or March.
Monday evening, back at the hotel in Stockholm, passed quietly and agreeably enough thanks to hours of American sitcoms on two Swedish TV channels.
The flight home yesterday was less peaceful, with a couple of fidgety kids who occasionally burst into wailing fits near me, plus a family who'd got on at the last minute so had to sit apart, meaning they were constantly getting up and walking up the plane to see each other. I was glad to have Andy Sloan's book 23 Sweet FAs to read, and to see the trolley come round to sell me a Tuborg for 39 of my last 49 kronor.
But we landed ahead of schedule, and I'd cleared customs by 6.20 pm. On my way through arrivals, baggage and customs I looked around for the charity globe you can drop your shrapnel in, but didn't see it anywhere, so I still have a 10 kronor coin and a 5 euro cent coin. So on to the train home. And it was on the train ride home that I thought of what I had to do to avert a cash crisis.
Once I was done unpacking, I binned my ticket for Quins RL v Leeds Rhinos this Sunday. With a filling to pay for, a train fare to London, plus refreshments, just isn't on.
Back to work today. I went up to the telephone unit ten minutes early, and noticed the posters advertising for people wanted to do evening shifts were gone. I hoped that wasn't a bad sign. But when I spoke to Mary she said they were still looking for extra people on the evenings and she was delighted when I said I'd like to work every Monday evening from next month. There was a little hiccup as initially I said I'd like to do 3.30 till 8 - the posters had said you could finish early - but Mary said they wanted people to go all the way through to 9.30. Beggars can't be choosers so I agreed. It was they who were doing me a massive favour by letting me take another shift on, but they've clearly been short staffed in the evenings, as Mary gushed "thank you so much" and looked like she'd love me for ever for taking this extra shift on.
Lots of the ladies asked about my holiday. As Sue #1 passed me on her way in she said in a real sardonic voice "I bet you're glad to be back." After a little hiccup, when an old lady hung up on me because she "can't stand very long", I had a really busy shift with several big families. At 1.58, as I was getting ready to enter my payclaim and go, Heather #1 came over and said she'd been monitoring my last call. She asked if I'd come and sit with her to hear her feedback, then remembered I finish at 2 pm and offered to do it tomorrow instead, but I said "Let's do it now" and explained that with my holiday still to be paid for, I was glad to count any extra time! She found no fault with my interviewing; on our way to the bit of the room where she'd led me, she'd picked up my postcard from the wall, and before long she was asking me all about my holiday, on what was officially monitoring time...
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Don't know why I find this funny, but I do...
Date: 2007-08-01 11:33 pm (UTC)Yes, because it's an absolute requirement to be on your feet whilst talking on the phone, because, you know, the phone won't work if you sit.
Re: Don't know why I find this funny, but I do...
Date: 2007-08-02 07:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-02 03:37 am (UTC)